Tabula Rasa
by Junky
Summary: In a single outlying universe, Shirou's fate takes an unexpected turn when while running to escape from the inferno that erupted around him, he is drenched in black mud falling from a slowly disappearing hole in the sky.
1. Imperium

Tabula Rasa

Chapter I

_Imperium_

•••••

**DISCLAIMER** _Fate/stay night_ and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Nasu Kinoko and Type-Moon. This is FANFICTION.

**SUMMARY** In a single outlying universe, Shirou's fate takes an unexpected turn when while running to escape from the inferno that erupted around him, he is drenched in black mud falling from a slowly disappearing hole in the sky.

•••••

**February 1995**

Emiya Kiritsugu watched in horror as a young boy stepped unaware below the last of the black mud falling from the closing vortex that was the Holy Grail. The fire had already spread far past this building and was consuming the city. There was nothing he could do about it. However, he could not let someone die before his eyes. Not after he had caused this massacre. Running desperately, his heart twisted in anguish and despair, he removed Avalon from his body. It was almost filled with Saber's magical energy that he had drawn from her during the fight with Kotomine Kirei. He could save the boy—Avalon should prevent his body from disintegrating.

With a lunge, he pulled on the boy's hand that was the only part he could see, and dragged the body out from under the mud and into a safer part of the ruined building. It was disgusting. The boy could not have been within the black mud for more than a few seconds. Yet his skin had been eaten away and parts of his ribs were poking through the blackened decayed remains of his flesh. However, what was worse was that the boy's rotted eyes were open and staring at him—he had not passed out from the pain. Ignoring the gruesome sight, Kiritsugu implanted Avalon into the boy's body.

The wounds were without a doubt fatal, but Kiritsugu knew that fatal injuries did not hinder Avalon. However, whether the awe-inspiring Conceptual Weapon contained enough mana to fight off the presence of the cursed mud from the grail and heal the numerous fatal wounds that covered the boy's body from head to toe was unknown.

Suddenly, Kiritsugu sensed a vast magical energy gathering behind him. In a single movement, he turned with the Thompson Contender in his hand. There was a flash of steel and he felt himself collapse to the ground. Stretching his neck to look upward, Kiritsugu saw the golden armored King of Heroes. Despite the enormous mana that the weapons in his Noble Phantasm emanated, he himself seemed different… mortal.

"Why?" Kiritsugu asked, coughing blood. A steel sword had pierced through his abdomen. Without Avalon, it was impossible that he would survive a mortal wound from a Noble Phantasm. However, he was not concerned about his life. After his sins, it would only be natural if he died miserably like this. But the boy… he should not have to die.

"You trash. Do you think a mongrel like him can survive the corruption of that thing?" Gilgamesh asked, his red gaze piercing into the Magus Killer.

"Don't touch hi…" Kiritsugu began, before blood gushed out of his mouth and silenced him.

"Humph," Gilgamesh said, noticing that the boy was still alive and watching them, unable to move.

Kiritsugu watched hopelessly, desperate thoughts running through his mind. The boy's wounds had stopped healing. Avalon's remaining mana had been exhausted and many fatal injuries still remained. It appeared that the child remained alive only by sheer force of will and the still lingering curse from the Grail.

"Very well," the Golden King said, beginning to chuckle in a distorted, sadistic manner. "I will grant the mongrel one chance to live."

Reaching through the gaps of the numerous weapons, he inserted his arm into his Noble Phantasm and pulled out a glowing golden amphora, its delicate and beautiful engravings interspersed with a profusion of precious stones.

"Ambrosia," Gilgamesh said, "also called Amrita, it is a nectar so scarce and valuable that even the gods sought it with fervor. A divine substance that is born from the breath of the planet, it does not heal the body but reconstructs it from its image within the soul, that eternal and indestructible blueprint of one's existence, with an immeasurable amount of mana. Not only that, it will change the consumer himself, sublimating him into an existence beyond human. In this manner, the ambrosia can treat any injury and even bestow immortality. Its purifying nature dispels any discoloration—the heavy curse within the mud cannot hope to match it."

Stepping over Kiritsugu's fallen body, Gilgamesh upturned the entire contents of the amphora into the boys open mouth. A viscous rosy-red liquid streamed from it and forced itself down the boy's throat, and the King of Heroes stepped back, dismissing the empty amphora. A blinding golden light erupted from the boy's body and to Kiritsugu's surprise, Gilgamesh began howling in a cruel and barbarous laughter while screams of agony erupted from the boy's melted and shredded lips.

"How unfortunate that ambrosia is only meant for the gods! Even _I_ would probably be incinerated with that quantity of the divine nectar—and humans could not bear its touch at all! Now die by the instant cremation of your soul, you arrogant trash. To be killed so quickly instead of dying slowly from the cursed mud of the grail—this is the mercy of the King."

White-hot fury erupted within Kiritsugu. How could a personality like this be called heroic? He attempted to move but only managed to hasten his death. Then the fiendish laughter stopped abruptly.

"Impossible…" the voice of the King of Heroes was soft, and simultaneously incredulous and furious. "A mere human mongrel… and that amount… even I, the King and two-thirds god…"

He whipped around to face Kiritsugu, his expression incensed. The atmosphere was saturated with a tangible presence of death. However, Kiritsugu felt no fear from it, feeling no need to prolong his life after all his failures. Instead a sense of elation filled him that the boy remained alive through the Servant's horrific treatment. Kiritsugu knew of course, why the boy had survived—Gilgamesh had not known that Avalon was inside him. The legendary scabbard must have interfered somehow to prevent the boy's death.

"Ch-chance," Kiritsugu stuttered, blood forcing its way up his throat and expelling itself through his mouth, nostrils and ears.

"You!" Gilgamesh almost screamed, remembering that he had promised the boy a chance, not even considering that he might live. "Who is he? How did a mortal survive? What did you do?"

However, Kiritsugu had exhausted his energy and was past the ability to hear what Gilgamesh was saying. The last thing he said before his soul dispersed into Akasha was—"I finally became… a hero of justice."

•••••

Fire roared in the background as Shirou ran. He had been cornered by the flaming wreckage of fallen buildings and forced to find another route. Unfortunately, he seemed to be going in the wrong direction. There was no end in sight. He had already seen what seemed like hundreds of people burning to death in the flames, pleading for someone to rescue them. Yet, he had never stopped. He could not stop. If he stopped, he would die. He would become like those people, waiting for a savior that would not come. So he selfishly ran, his body breaking down from exertion and wounds where burning debris had struck him.

As Shirou continued stumbling through the ruined city, he noticed that had not seen people for a while now, and an ominous black substance seemed to cover the ground, igniting any material it touched. He carefully avoided it, wondering whether it was the source of the fire.

And then it happened.

He had been avoiding looking upward to prevent himself from seeing that yawning black hole. Just a glance at it told him that staring at it for too long would drive him insane. Unfortunately, because he had been avoiding it, he did not know that he was approaching it with every step.

Until now, that is.

A dense black viscous substance like a black mud swallowed his body, pushing him to the ground forcefully. It soaked into him, penetrating him in inexplicable ways, eroding his mind and body.

A living hell stabbed into his mind.

**The starting penalty is five. Life penalty, body penalty, freedom penalty, fame penalty, fortune penalty. Give the penalty that extends so much punishment, mud, darkness, and malice. Elimination of human rights by castration, exile, and execution. Torture and sadism inflicted upon the human body through digestion. Denial by consensus of the colony that eliminates all honor.**

**DIE**

**Scorn from judgment and selfishness that takes away men's fortunes. Death penalty, penal servitude, imprisonment, custody, fine penalty, crime from a grudge, crime from self-interest, unconscious crime, self-conscious crime, civil war, inducement, false statement, theft, robbery, kidnap, suicide, rape, arson, bombing, violation, negligent homicide, mass violence, death at work, overconfident accident.**

**DIE DIE DIE**

**Misdiagnosis, concealment, violation for benefit, violation for self-protection, violation for love, violation for respect, selfish ****. Stealing, fraudulent, fraud, concealment, murder, theft, crime, crime, personal grudge, attack, attack, attack, attack, dirty, dirty, dirty, you are dirty, atone, atone, atone, atone, every violence, every crime, every victim, atone for everything. This world is ruled by something not human. Know the conscience to reform crimes.**

**DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE**

**Know the penalty to reform crimes. People's kindness is here. There is so much it cannot be noticed. Know the violence to hide crimes. Know the power to hide crimes. People's malignance is here. It is so rare that it is noticed. A hundred kindnesses and one malignance. Malignance shines bright to keep the balance and exists as a great EVIL to compete with the masses of kindness. The starting penalty is five.**

**DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE**

███ **for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self, ****for self,****for self,****for self,****for self,****for self, inducement, false statement, theft, robbery, kidnap, suicide, rape, arson, infringement, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, you are dirty, atone, atone, atone, atone, atone, atone, every violence, every crime, every victim, atone, atone, atone with death!**

**DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE **

"███████—!" Shirou could not breathe. His brain was exploding. The black mud stole his warmth and consumed all five of his senses. Darkness and ugliness flooded his mind, he did not want to see it or acknowledge it. Yet sin and crimes continued to pour into him. Every single sin committed by every single person in the world. All the world's evil.

He needed to atone. He needed to do something but he could not. There was nothing that could atone for this much sin. He was trapped in the darkness. Pain and hatred engulfed him from every direction. He was going to die. The darkness that trapped him would devour every bit of him until there was nothing left.

A burst of light pierced through the darkness. The darkness fled, reversing itself. The devastating pain still remained, but Shirou was so relieved by the removal of the cursed black mud that he only felt numbness. Yet he could still feel its effects burrowing within his soul. He had been tainted irreversibly. Cursed to spend a life of misery, rotting while unable to atone for the sins of mankind that he had witnessed.

A black-haired man with dead-looking eyes stared down at Shirou as he inserted a golden _something_ into Shirou's body. The _something_ had driven the darkness away. And the look on the man's face—it was happiness, happiness that he had arrived in time, happiness that he could save Shirou.

Only Shirou could not be saved. He could feel the brilliant energy within the _something_ reversing the effect of the black mud in his body but it would not be enough. He was not worried about himself. However, Shirou did not want to disappoint the black-haired man who had tried his best to save Shirou. Shirou did not want to burst his happiness. He wanted to live, he wanted to be saved, he wanted the curse to leave him, and he wanted to be forgiven for humanity's evil ways—if only to let the man retain that expression on his face.

Shirou's contemplation was abruptly interrupted by a vast _presence_ behind his savior. The man had noticed it too and spun around with a gun appearing in his hand only to be pierced by a silver blade. Unable to act or speak, Shirou simply watched, hoping that the man's wound was not fatal.

"Why?" the black-haired man asked as he coughed out blood.

"You trash. Do you think a mongrel like him can survive the corruption of that thing?" said a voice beyond him. Shirou could not see whom the voice belonged to from his position but it sounded overwhelmingly arrogant as if the man who spoke was looking down on Shirou's savior like he was an ant.

"Don't touch hi…" Shirou's savior began but Shirou knew that it was getting harder for him to speak with the sword pierced through his chest. It had probably missed his heart but one of his lungs instead. The man would be alive if he had not put that _something_ in Shirou. Unlike Shirou's wounds, the sword wound was small enough to be restored by the _something_. But he did not have it. And Shirou was still going to die. The man's sacrifice would be in vain and he was still trying to defend Shirou from the newly arrived interloper.

"Humph," the arrogant voice said and its owner stepped forward, allowing Shirou to receive a glimpse of him for the first time.

He was awe-inspiring.

A golden-haired, red-eyed man clad in a gleaming set of golden armor. His expression was haughty and self-assured. There was nothing that could stand before him. Shirou now understood the meaning behind his arrogance. The man seemed human, but he was not. He was a presence beyond humanity, someone whose existence could not be measured in human lives. Behind him, jutting out from ripples of space, were countless weapons ready to be launched at his will. The sword embedded in the black-haired man was one of those.

As Shirou watched him, he felt the presence of the _something_ inside him dissipate. Fatal wounds still littered his body. The _something_ had blown away the black mud and even begun repairing some of the more serious injuries but it was not enough. He was going to die. He was going to die along with his savior who had sacrificed his life for no reason. Knowing this, Shirou guiltily hoped that the black-haired man would die before him so that he would not know that Shirou died in spite of his efforts.

"Very well," the golden-clad man said, as he began to laugh eerily. "I will grant the mongrel one chance to live."

The sensation of pain was returning now without the regenerative effect of the _something_ preventing it. The brief respite and numbness only proceeded to compound the torturous agony spreading through his body, and Shirou regretted that he had not been in pain all along. At least then this would not be so shockingly painful. Through the flood of agony, Shirou saw the gold-armored non-human reach behind him creating another ripple in space and bring out a golden jug-like container.

"Ambrosia," Shirou heard him say distantly, "also called Amrita, it is a nectar so scarce and valuable that even the gods sought it with fervor. A divine substance that is born from the breath of the planet, it does not heal the body but reconstructs it from its image within the soul, that eternal and indestructible blueprint of one's existence, with an immeasurable amount of mana. Not only that, it will change the consumer himself, sublimating him into an existence beyond human. In this manner, the ambrosia can treat any injury and even bestow immortality. Its purifying nature dispels any discoloration—the heavy curse within the mud cannot hope to match it."

And with that convoluted explanation for the contents of the jug-thing, he poured it into Shirou's open mouth. The rosy-red fluid had the consistency of honey yet it was not cloyingly sweet. As it forced itself down Shirou's throat, Shirou knew that even if he lived for a thousand more years, he would never taste something this delicious again in his life. It was truly the pinnacle of last meals, yet it was not something fit for a human.

Finally succumbing to his injuries, Shirou closed his eyes.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the world exploded.

Shirou opened his eyes to find himself in a burning wasteland with a black hole in the sky—his image of the catastrophe that had destroyed his life.

Instinctively, Shirou understood where he was. This burning plain was his soul. As he stood alone on the arid and cracked red soil, a thundering sound reached his ears. From all directions came a deluge of the same rosy-red liquid—_ambrosia_, he recalled vaguely—that had been poured into his mouth. Shirou felt an odd urge to laugh as he recognized this scene. His memories were fragmented and he could no longer remember any part of his past apart from his name and abstract information, but the scene before him could not be mistaken.

It was the Great Flood—an act of Divine Retribution against Shirou who had dared to attain something reserved for the gods. Indeed, what the golden-clad man said was right—his soul was being purified and sublimated. However, it seemed that the ambrosia deemed anything human as an imperfection. And he was entirely human. His inner world would be swept away and destroyed, and his soul would disintegrate as it traversed back to the Spiral of Origin.

As Shirou watched the approaching tsunami in a hopeless sense of awe, something stirred within him. The endless prana supplied to his soul by the flood had restored the power of the _something_—_Avalon_, came a whisper in his mind—implanted in him. With an explosion of golden radiance that matched the sun, the torrents of ambrosia were halted in their progress and slowly began to recede. Golden particles drifted through the air, saturating in the sky where the black hole was located. As small waves of ambrosia surged over Shirou's feet, Shirou noticed that the golden light from Avalon had covered the hole entirely and now resembled a representation of the sun lighting up his soul.

The red waves finally stilled and sunk into the ground, disappearing into the now-moist earth. Slowly, grass began to spread upon the arid soil like a rolling carpet and the smoldering desert was converted into an infinitely extending lawn. Flora from every region and period dotted the landscape with the fires that had once consumed it quelled forcefully by the ambrosia. The formerly black sky, now lit up by the sun, turned blue, and Shirou subconsciously recognized that this was the result of Avalon's nature being carved into his soul.

Gargantuan golden gears spread across the sky from the horizon, meshing with each other as they spun in a synchronistical fashion. Clouds blew across them, showing that while they were the foundation of this world, they existed beyond it. Shirou did not know what this world symbolized or what its function was. Even so, this was his world. It was his deepest, innermost self. It was his soul. Shirou smiled, knowing that despite the horrible curse, and despite this horrible day, he had finally been saved. The beauty of this world clearly showed that. Yet, the world felt empty, reminding him that he himself was empty. However, he had his whole life ahead of him to change that.

As Shirou opened his eyes again to see the world beyond his soul, he was suddenly bombarded with memories of the last few minutes since the fire erupted in Fuyuki City. He could not remember experiencing emotions before this day but he could clearly recall the feelings of intense fear as the fire blazed around him and consumed everything, desperation as he walked among the bodies pleading to be saved, hope as the black-haired man attempted to save his life, despair as he saw that the attempt would be futile, and helplessness as he saw both him and his savior being preyed upon by the blond non-human.

"Ch-chance," the black-haired man stuttered. Shirou turned to him, his wounds fully healed. He looked desperate, and he was clearly on the verge of death, yet his desperation was not directed toward a will to extend his own life but to protect Shirou's.

"You!" the golden armored man said in a barely controlled voice. "Who is he? How did a mortal survive? What did you do?"

However, those questions would not be answered. As the black-haired man understood that the red-eyed man was not going to kill Shirou, his desperate visage turned into a blinding happiness that shook Shirou's very being. He wondered if he could also experience the same thing. The happiness of saving someone—this was not something Shirou could understand. However, he could see it, had seen it. Perhaps it would be a way to lift the weight of the innumerable sins of humanity that had taken a toll on his mind. He had been absolved of the curse that came from the black mud but the memories of that seething mass of evil would remain forever within him.

Shirou looked toward his savior, wondering whether he could remove Avalon from within him and give it back in time. Unfortunately, he did not know how to do it.

"I finally became," the black-haired man said, pausing as he gasped for a breath, "a hero of justice."

Then he closed his eyes and his harsh breathing faded into silence. He was dead.

Shirou spoke his first words since his world had come crashing down around him.

"A 'hero of justice,'" he murmured, rolling the words off his tongue. He once again stared into the black-haired man's face, remembering his own happiness at being saved, and the black-haired man's expression when he understood that he had succeeded in saving Shirou. Shirou's image of the incident seared itself into his mind, forcefully usurping the memories of the curse. A purpose and a path to redemption—perhaps he could also obtain happiness in that way. "Then I too will become a 'hero of justice.'"

•••••

**March 1996**

"We will be going to see someone today, Shirou," Kirei said. "Take a break from your reading and clean up."

Shirou looked up from the book he was reading. It was _Momotarou_, a rather famous Japanese folktale. Shirou loved reading folktales, legends and modern fiction that involved heroes. He had even made efforts to learn other languages to read ones not translated into Japanese. He often spent his time writing out different ways that the heroes could have acted in order to create a better ending. They were nothing but fantasies of a child yet Kirei could tell that Shirou was very serious about it.

It had been about a year since Kirei had become Shirou's guardian, something he still was not used to. Gilgamesh had forced the boy upon him and ordered him not to include Shirou among the other orphans of the war who were being used as fuel to gain mana. Honestly, Kirei could not understand what Gilgamesh was thinking. Shirou had no noticeable attributes that might make him interesting to Gilgamesh. Apart from his obviously foreign ancestry, he did not seem any different from an ordinary Japanese child. The most aggravating part of this task was that Gilgamesh offered no support in taking care of the boy.

It was obvious that Gilgamesh had his own reasons and would not talk about them. Nevertheless, Kirei had taken Shirou in, though he was not so much a father as a caretaker. He did not know why Gilgamesh was so intrigued by Shirou—perhaps it was the mysterious artifact embedded within him that Kirei had removed—but anything that drew the Golden King's attention was certainly bound to be interesting. Kirei was certainly not disappointed that he had become Shirou's pseudo-guardian. The boy was the source of unending entertainment to Kirei, with his idealistic and hypocritical views.

Despite Shirou's unusual affinity for violence that Kirei soon picked up upon, he wanted to be a hero that would cut down evil and serve justice, even sacrificing himself if he could save one person. It was such a childish ideal that Kirei did not know how he should treat it. He assumed this desire came from how his own rescue by Kiritsugu after the fire. When he had first heard of Shirou's ideal, Kirei had considered revealing the truth of Kiritsugu's way of life but ultimately decided not to in order for Shirou's idealism to grow until the point that shattering it would cause incredible agony to Shirou. To intensify his entertainment, Kirei had allowed Shirou to take Kiritsugu's last name, falsified documents proving their relation, and even used the Church's authority to acquire all Kiritsugu's properties in Fuyuki City for Shirou. It was akin to fattening up livestock for slaughter.

"I'm ready, Kirei," Shirou said as he stepped into the nave of the church, bathed and clad in casual jeans and a t-shirt. "Where are we going? Is… _Gilgamesh_ coming too?"

Kirei smirked inwardly at Shirou's condescending tone for Gilgamesh. Shirou never spoke of the Golden King in that manner when the Servant was present but at times like this, his true feelings about Gilgamesh were plain. Nevertheless, Shirou had adopted numerous traits from the King of Heroes including a sense of authority, an absolute conviction about the righteousness of his own ideals, a strong will to uphold his laws, and a firm denial toward anything that opposed his way of thinking. It was strange and fascinating that two individuals so different could be so similar.

Kirei began walking out of the church, Shirou following him steadily. He then recalled that Shirou asked him a question.

"I've told you—do not mention Gilgamesh to anyone except myself. He will not be coming, of course. We are going to visit the daughter of my deceased Master, who trained me in the use of magecraft. She is about your age, I should think. She was living with her maternal grandparents after her father died and her mother became a vegetable in the Holy Grail War but she wanted to return to Fuyuki City to take over her estate and attend school. She will be starting her fourth year in April, the same as you, though you will be attending different institutions. I am her guardian."

There was a period of silence and Kirei knew that Shirou was thinking over what had been said. He was undoubtedly speculating about the reasons for Kirei to bring him along. While Kirei did not abuse Shirou excluding the sadistic pleasure he took when training Shirou in Bajiquan, Gilgamesh had no tolerance for those who questioned his actions. After several rather savage physical beatings that left Shirou broken up on the floor, the boy seemed to have gotten the hint and restrained his curiosity in Gilgamesh's presence. Fortunately, Gilgamesh allowed Shirou the use of his miraculous collection of healing elixirs to restore his health but apparently Shirou now instinctively curbed his desire to ask questions. Kirei wondered how long it would last, knowing Shirou's innate inquisitiveness could not be suppressed indefinitely.

"This route is… are we going to the southern end where the western style houses are?" Shirou asked.

They had turned to the left after crossing the Fuyuki Bridge to Miyama. Shirou had indeed made an accurate conjecture, probably based on the fact that prominent magi tended to be rich.

"Yes," Kirei replied. "The Tohsaka residence is a large mansion in the upper-class neighborhood where foreigners settled some time ago. It seems to have received the reputation of a haunted house recently, probably because of the lack of occupants."

"A haunted house?" Shirou repeated. He knew about the existence of spirits of course—it was one of the fields of Kirei's expertise and hence part of Shirou's education about the supernatural elements of the world.

"No, it is not really haunted."

They approached the house. Shirou looked around curiously, admiring the different architecture. The church was quite beautiful, but it was not what a child envisioned as a home.

Kirei rang the doorbell.

"Coming!" came a voice from inside. The door was pulled open forcefully and it swung to the extent its hinges allowed, causing a loud thud.

"Are you going to break the house apart on your first day, Rin?" Kirei asked.

Rin scowled rather ungracefully. Kirei admired the expression, knowing that she did not show it to anyone apart from himself. She had been raised to be a stoic magus after all, and it was unbecoming of a magus of the Tohsaka line to openly express their emotions. She was also a perfectionist who prided herself in her princess-like demeanor. Despite that, Rin could not keep her composure in his presence, often making angry outbursts that had surprised her parents.

"Do not make such a face in front of a guest, Rin," Kirei said, pulling Shirou from behind him where the boy had been observing their interaction.

Rin's face went through a delightful range of expressions from shock to anger to impassiveness. Kirei silently clapped himself on the back for his ingenious idea to bring Shirou with him. It was, after all, a tremendous source of entertainment. He enjoyed seeing Rin so unsettled.

"Who is he?" Rin asked, a sharp edge in her voice. "Why did you bring someone else here?"

"I would never dream of bringing another person here without reason, Rin," Kirei said, ignoring her rudeness. "I simply want you to meet my apprentice, one who I picked up after the Holy Grail War a year ago."

Rin's querulous expression morphed abruptly into shock.

"Your apprentice? What are you talking about?"

Laughing silently in his mind while maintaining his stoic outward appearance, Kirei continued, "His name is Emiya Shirou. He is an orphan of the last war, and has been staying with me since then."

"Last war… you mean…"

"Yes, his parents died in the fire created at the end of the war."

Rin looked disconcerted with the sudden influx of new information but she quickly regained herself and looked suspiciously at Kirei.

"Why did you not tell me about him? You said apprentice—does that mean you taught a boy with no magus history magecraft when he cannot hope to succeed? And…"

"Ah, you assume wrongly, Rin. Firstly, your father never taught me the deepest secrets of the Tohsaka family, and I do not have any talent for your family's brand of magecraft, so I could not teach it. Secondly, I do not have the faintest idea how to begin teaching a child how to learn magecraft. Instead, I have been teaching him the ways of an Executor. He was baptized with the Purification Sacrament soon after he came here and is slowly becoming adept at Bajiquan."

"Another fake priest like you? How useless."

"Do you really have to be so rude when you haven't heard him say a word yet? Let me introduce you. Rin, this is Emiya Shirou, my apprentice." Kirei said as he turned to Shirou. "This rude girl here is Tohsaka Rin, my former Master's daughter."

"Nice to meet you, Tohsaka-san," Shirou said as he offered a hand for Rin to shake, but she just stared at him as if he were an alien.

"What are you doing, getting adopted by someone like him?" she shouted, glaring at Shirou.

"What?" Shirou was obviously flummoxed by the question and Rin's change in attitude. His hand dropped to his side limply and his forehead crinkled into a frown.

"Never mind," she said, making a sound of exasperation, before realizing that the three of them were still standing in the doorway. "Come in."

Kirei proceeded inside and Shirou followed him. They took a seat on the comfortable chairs in the living room.

"Well, whatever," Rin continued. "So, you're training to be an Executor, huh? Are you that devoted to the Holy Church and its doctrines?"

"No, not really," Shirou replied. "I'm going to be a hero of justice."

Rin adopted an incredulous expression before turning to Kirei. Kirei just looked back at her, indicating that Shirou was serious.

"Huh, you really are a kid. I'm surprised Kirei of all people adopted someone like you."

"You—!" Shirou stood from his seat.

Now this was a topic Kirei hoped to avoid. Shirou was well aware that it was not Kirei's idea to keep him. He was also aware that Kirei was not his legal guardian. It was essentially a kidnapping orchestrated by Gilgamesh, where Shirou played the part of abducted child who would be killed if he tried to run and Kirei played the servant who was forced to take care of the trapped child despite his lack of desire to do so. Neither of them could change their situation because of Gilgamesh's authority, so they just lived with it.

However, Shirou's protest in this case was not about their circumstances but about Rin's dismissal of his ambition. It would be better if he intervened before it escalated.

"I'm surprised that you are being so combative against someone you have just met, Rin," Kirei said, interrupting the rising tension. "Are you jealous? Did you want to be the sole bearer of my affections?"

"That's not—!" Rin paused, realizing that she was being baited. "KIREI!"

"How about you show me your progress in magecraft?" Kirei said, quickly switching tack. "You haven't been able to practice much at your grandparents', is that not so?"

"Humph! Okay, come to the workshop then." She glanced at Shirou, who was sitting patiently. "You can come too if you want. I won't be displaying anything secret to Kirei anyway and you can hardly be less trustworthy than him."

"Oh, inviting a boy to your room already? Aren't you a little young, Rin?" Kirei asked, the corner of his lips twitching as he observed Rin's rising blush and Shirou's bewilderment.

"Kirei—!"

"Aren't you showing us to your workshop?"

Kirei and Shirou followed Rin to the basement, carrying a torch. Unlike the rest of the house, which was decorated in classic western fashion, the workshop was rather bare. While it had remained unchanged since the time of Tokiomi's death, with bookshelves and odd devices all over the place, a thin layer of dust had gathered in the past year.

Rin whispered something and swept her arm around her. A gentle breeze blew across the room, clearing away the gathered dust. With another wave, the candlesticks lit up, throwing shadows across the room. Kirei switched off his torch and watched Shirou's expression—it showed curiosity and a smidgen of envy. Yes, Shirou was well aware of his weakness as Gilgamesh demonstrated them often enough. He had no experience with conventional magecraft but a girl his age showing skills that he did not possess especially after she dismissed his grand dreams would definitely make him envious. It was so delicious that Kirei wanted to laugh.

"So what is it that you want, exactly? My father taught us both so you already know the extent of my abilities. There is no real reason for you to come to my workshop, especially bringing your _apprentice_ along. If you wanted to talk about martial arts lessons or the estate, we could have done so upstairs. I'll say it again clearly—what do you want, Kirei?"

Sharp. Despite the fact that she was only eight-years-old, Tohsaka Rin possessed all the qualities of a genius. Kirei could not afford to beat around the bush in this case.

"You're right," Kirei replied. "I want you to forcefully open Shirou's Magic Circuits and create a switch."

"What?" Shirou and Rin exclaimed together.

Kirei smirked internally. He had purposely left Shirou unaware of the fact that he possessed Magic Circuits. Despite not being interested in magecraft, Gilgamesh had a vast knowledge of its workings. Magic Circuits were not in existence in his time but he could easily detect their presence if he looked for them. He was also extremely curious about anything to do with Shirou. He had told Kirei about it, as he had no way of awakening Shirou's Magic Circuits without experimentation that might destroy them.

Unfortunately, Kirei himself did not know the right procedure and he did not have the right equipment and drugs. He could not even tell the quantity and quality of Shirou's Magic Circuits, though he did not have great expectations of someone with probably no magus lineage or Thaumaturgical Crest. However, Gilgamesh wanted it done, and Kirei had seen the opportunity when Rin moved back to Fuyuki, as she could do what he could not, even as young as she was.

"Ah, it seems that I forgot to inform you about this, Shirou," Kirei said, calmly ignoring Shirou's outrage. "So can you do it, Rin?"

"Is he from a magus lineage?" Rin asked as she fidgeted on her feet. Perhaps Kirei was not that far wrong when he suggested that Rin was jealous after all.

"I do not know for sure as he does not possess memories from before the fire, but the fact that he was in Fuyuki City during the Grail War yet none of his parents were Masters as well as the lack of Thaumaturgical Crest leads me to believe that he is not from a magus family."

"O-okay," Rin stuttered. "I'll do it. Give me a second."

She turned to the shelves, searching for what she needed. Kirei looked at Shirou, who was staring at him with an odd expression.

"You… it was not you who found out that I had Magic Circuits, am I right?" Shirou said softly but authoritatively, making sure that Rin could not hear his words.

Despite the questioning end to his words, it was obvious that Shirou had already found the answer he was seeking. It was then that Kirei remembered that expression—it was the same one that Gilgamesh possessed when he had come to a conclusion. And it was the same arrogant manner of speaking. Kirei was struck once again with the realization that the two were extremely similar despite their opposing ideals. Perhaps Gilgamesh was having more of an influence than he thought regardless of their mutual antipathy.

"You are right," Kirei replied. "I saw the opportunity when Rin came back and took it. You do want to learn magecraft, is that not so?"

"I do," Shirou said. "Next time, please tell me beforehand instead of springing it on me in such a situation."

"Of course."

Rin came back as they finished their brief conversation with a can in her hand. She unscrewed the lid, revealing a number of small jewels in different colors.

"Here, take one," she told Shirou.

Shirou confusedly dipped his hand into the can and pulled out a red jewel. He stared it and then at Rin.

"Swallow it," Rin said.

Shirou's confusion increased and he glanced at Kirei before popping it into his mouth.

"It's not sweet… it has no taste actually… and this sensation… it's more like rock than candy," he said before swallowing it whole. "Ouch! That hurt my throat. What was it?"

"It was a jewel, of course. Couldn't you tell just by looking at it?"

Kirei wanted to laugh at the horrified expression Shirou was wearing.

"Why would you make me swallow a jewel?" he almost shouted. "How will I digest that? Am I going to die?"

"Eh, I could have prepared some medicine instead but it would be too time consuming. So I decided to use the strongest method I have to open the switch. I'll force Kirei to pay me back for that jewel anyway."

Kirei knew he should have expected something like this to happen. It seemed that Rin's sadistic streak had not dulled at all even after a year with her grandparents.

"Rin," he said, looking at her sternly.

"Alright, alright. What I gave you now was just an enforcement tool that will tell you everything about your Magic Circuits. It's not a normal jewel and it will start melting now. Be prepared."

"Be prepared for what?" Shirou asked nervously, apparently getting a grasp on Rin's true personality.

"It's going to be so painful that you might faint."

Abruptly Shirou faltered, and he steadied himself by placing his hand against the wall. His eyes were closed and he breathed deeply.

"Yes, maintain that connection and it will gradually get better," Rin said before adding a callous remark. "Well, in a week or two, I suppose."

"It seems he has Magic Circuits," Kirei said, watching Shirou's slouched posture.

"Eh, you weren't sure about that? If so I did something really dangerous, you know?"

Kirei stared at her, knowing that she would have used the extreme method on purpose anyway. She turned away to lecture Shirou.

"If you can bear the pain, try and grasp some understanding of your Magic Circuits. You're an amateur, but you definitely have them. Once they have been opened, all you need is to force them closed by toggling the switch. After that you will be able to freely activate and deactivate your Magic Circuits even without the jewel."

"Switch?" Shirou said hazily. He seemed to be following Rin's instructions if the concentration on his face was any indicator.

"Amazing, you can speak already?" Rin asked. She really did look amazed. "Then you must be good at controlling yourself. The switch will automatically turn off when you gain an understanding of your Magic Circuits and your body calms down. You will eventually get a clear image of it in your head."

"I see… thank you, Rin-san."

"D-don't address me so informally!" Rin exploded while a deep blush covered her face.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, Tohsaka-san."

"It's fine!" she replied, turning away with her arms folded. "I'm just helping you because Kirei asked me to! It has nothing to do with you at all!"

In spite of her words, Kirei could see that she was very pleased by Shirou's words—who knew that even Rin could make such an expression? And it seemed that Shirou could see it as well, judging by his low chuckle.

"What is it?" Rin asked embarrassedly. "Why are you laughing while staring at my face?"

Shirou chuckled again before speaking. "It's nothing important. I just thought that the embarrassed Tohsaka-san was cute."

"E-embarrassed! Who's embarrassed?" Rin picked up an old rag from a rack next to her and vigorously thrust it into Shirou's mouth. "Bite on that if you're in so much pain that you are getting delusions!"

"Guh!" Shirou tried to remove the gag but Rin was holding his jaw shut.

"It seems that the two of you get along well," Kirei said, interrupting their one-sided altercation. He did not show his feelings on his face but he could not help but feel amused at the entertainment the two children were providing.

"Shut up, Kirei!" Rin responded, her hands quickly moving away from Shirou's face. "Anyway, he's got talent. Even if he doesn't show aptitude in magecraft, he should attempt to go to the Clock Tower. There will definitely be something he can do that you could not teach him."

Shirou pulled the rag from his mouth and threw it to the floor.

"I'll never join the Mage's Association," he said. "I cannot agree with their policies."

"What's wrong with their policies?" Rin asked. She was clearly angered at Shirou's apparent dislike of the Clock Tower, which she considered the pinnacle of magical organizations.

"They don't care what happens to any bystanders in a magical ritual as long as the existence of magecraft is not compromised. That's why the casualties of the Holy Grail War could happen. I would never join an organization that allowed that."

"The Church is not much better," Rin said, apparently annoyed at his hypocrisy.

"I told you—I don't want to be an Executor. I'm going to become a hero of justice!"

"You're still on about that?" Rin asked as she turned away. "Humph. Well, it's not like someone without a Thaumaturgical Crest could become a good magus anyway. Unless you have a child with someone like me who has a Thaumaturgical Crest from a long lineage, your descendants would gain almost nothing from your studies and efforts."

There was a silence as Kirei critically analyzed Rin's last sentence.

"Rin…" he began.

"No! I didn't mean it like that! Why would I ma-marry someone like him?" Rin stammered loudly.

"You have to be married to have a child? How do I have a child with you anyway?" Shirou asked innocently.

"…"

"…"

"It seems that there is a talk I have neglected to have with you, Shirou. Please reserve some time this evening and come to my room. I will procure the required material by then."

"Required material?" Shirou asked.

"It is best explained with diagrams. Also, I have never taught something like this before, you see. I will need some form of reference."

"Ref—?"

"Don't ask! Don't ask!" Rin screamed at Shirou in a high-pitched voice. "And you, Kirei! How does he not know this? You adopted him right? This is your role!"

"Know what?" Shirou questioned, bewildered by the perplexing conversation that he could not make head or tail of.

"That's it! Kirei, just get out of here! And Emiya-kun, make sure you are not corrupted by that fake priest!"

With that, Rin turned on her heel and practically ran out of the basement.

"Why was she so red?" Shirou asked as her silhouette disappeared up the stairs.

Kirei just laughed joyfully.

•••••


	2. Connections

Tabula Rasa

Chapter II

_Connections_

•••••

**DISCLAIMER** _Fate/stay night_ and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Nasu Kinoko and Type-Moon. This is FANFICTION.

**SUMMARY** In a single outlying universe, Shirou's fate takes an unexpected turn when while running to escape from the inferno that erupted around him, he is drenched in black mud falling from a slowly disappearing hole in the sky.

•••••

**July 1998**

Shirou stared at the Origin Bullet in his hands. He was standing in his workshop, which was essentially a small storeroom located to the rear of the church where visitors did not have access. There were a variety of objects—mostly weapons—scattered about the place such as knives, swords, spears, bows, handguns, shotguns, assault rifles and submachine guns.

"_Trace On_," he intoned as he flooded Emiya Kiritsugu's Mystic Code with prana.

The structure and design of the cartridge immediately and perspicuously appeared in his mind's eye. According to Tohsaka, this was the furthest one could reach with _Structural Grasping_ magecraft, and only if one was really talented at it. However, Shirou knew that he was not an ordinary human. Even Gilgamesh had stated that he was "an existence infinitely closer to the original than the modern trash that populates the planet." His physical potential was far greater than any human in this period could reach and he had realized the day that he had first activated his Magic Circuits that he was definitely not an ordinary magus either.

His Magic Circuits were not extraordinary by any means. He had twenty-seven Magic Circuits, which was above average in quantity, but each circuit could barely handle ten units of prana. No, what was extraordinary was that when Shirou switched off his Magic Circuits for the first time, to anyone else, they did not exist. An invisible barrier had been activated around them, preventing detection of their activity. Not only did this allow Shirou to perform magecraft undetected and masquerade as an ordinary human, it also blocked any spiritual interference that targeted his Magic Circuits, such as Mental Manipulation, Command and Geis. The barrier itself leeched on an insignificant amount of Shirou's prana involuntarily at all times and could not be manually deactivated.

Neither Tohsaka nor Kirei knew about it, as Shirou did not want to divulge the reason that he possessed such a trait, though he strongly suspected that Gilgamesh already knew. It was undoubtedly the effect of Avalon's concepts being engraved on his soul on the day that he had been reborn. His Magic Circuits had been isolated in a realm that only he could reach; they had not actually been disconnected from his soul but blocked off on the spiritual plane. Also, much like a Thaumaturgical Crest, Avalon's irreversible influence also allowed him to regenerate from injuries simply by flowing his prana to the affected region of his body, although this was much inferior to the automated healing provided by the actual scabbard and had to be used with caution because of the prana requirement.

Additionally, Shirou's _Structural Grasping_ magecraft was different from the conventional version. When Shirou passed his prana through an object, he not only received a three-dimensional blueprint detailing its inner workings but also its entire history. He could see the concept of its creation, its basic structure, its composition material, the skill with which it was made, the experience of its growth, its accumulated years, and every single manufacturing process. He immediately knew these particularities of the object, although they did not remain in his mind past the duration of his magecraft.

Unfortunately, Shirou's _Structural Grasping_ magecraft specifically targeted and prioritized the weaknesses of anything he used it on. And Shirou could not abide it. In those brief moments of _Structural Grasping_, Shirou understood more about the object than its creator or user, and he simply could not tolerate its numerous flaws. Just as he could not tolerate the heroes who failed to save the people they swore to protect. He could neither accept them nor forgive them. He would not permit them to exist. He, who had bathed in the unfiltered sins of mankind before being purified and sublimated by the divine breath of the planet, would be a hero who saved everyone and sacrificed no one.

Emiya Kiritsugu was his inspiration, and indeed, he was a hero. However, he was heavily flawed. In the end, he would have failed to save Shirou if not for Gilgamesh's accidental assistance, and he had needlessly sacrificed his own life to do so. Shirou once believed that it would be good enough if he could sacrifice his life to protect someone else's. However, that was not right. A perfect hero should save everyone except the villain. To the villain, he would administer justice. That was the hero's prerogative. And Shirou would be a perfect hero. That was his ideal, and that was what he would achieve.

The same went for the objects he examined with _Structural Grasping_ magecraft. If they were flawed, he would improve them. He would purify and sublimate them, just as he had been in the tsunami of ambrosia what seemed like ages ago.

During the moments that he was absorbing the details of Kiritsugu's Mystic Code, Shirou proceeded to make modifications to its history in his mind. His prana flowed continuously—he had limited time to make adjustments to his hypothesis, as the image of the _.30-06 Springfield_ round would quickly flow out of his mind when he deactivated his magecraft. He was not altering the object itself but eliminating every flaw in its history within his mind.

In this process, Shirou was not adding new abilities to the Origin Bullet but fundamentally changing its existence by reinforcing its every moment and appending any possible opportunity it possessed that could have made it stronger during its lifespan. For example, its creator once played with the thought of including runes that increased its accuracy, speed and power but had neglected to do so as it would be too expensive a feature—those runes had now been appended to the bullet.

Even as Shirou mentally recreated the Origin Bullet following through its history modifying it to correct any flaws, he knew that the real work was not being done in the material world but in the world he had seen within his soul. He could not see them, but he knew that giant gears grinded against each other as he took the steps to create his ideal version of the cartridge in his hands.

That was what Shirou imagined as its full potential, and as long as he perceived it to be possible, it was so. It was Shirou's imagination that gave birth to the new Origin Bullet. Its every component had been reinforced to the greatest possible level, vastly improving its performance with a stronger propellant, zero recoil and increased speed of operation. Compounded with its new features from the runes that had not been included previously, Shirou had created his ideal version of the Origin Bullet. Unlike that of the original version, the blueprint of the ideal remained in Shirou's mind—or more accurately, in his inner world.

Shirou fell back onto a bench behind him, mentally and physically exhausted. The number of details he had to peruse in that short period was too many to count and just about all his physical energy, life force, or od had been converted into prana. However, he could not rest yet. He had tested this method several times with non-magical objects and weapons that presently occupied much of the space in his workshop but never with a magical weapon. The less complex and newer the object he was sublimating, the shorter the time he took to create it in his mind. The shorter the time he took to create it, the lower the prana cost.

Hence, the older and more complex the object Shirou was sublimating, the more difficult and exhausting the process was. Due to the inferior quality of his Magic Circuits, Shirou could not use the skill on anything with significant history such as the more famous or powerful Noble Phantasms in Gilgamesh's vault. Even the Origin Bullet had been taxing on his prana reserves. It was, after all, a Conceptual Weapon that that rewrote natural laws to enforce the concept of _Severing and Binding_ on its target. He had severely underestimated it, having only heard from Kirei that it could destroy Command Spells.

Shirou took a deep breath and sat up. He ordinarily did not do this at night, especially after an exhausting day. It was the last day of school, he had Bajiquan practice and training at the kendo dojo, but he had wanted to test his limits when he was tired. His goal, when he got down to it, was not limited to Kiritsugu's Mystic Code but the endless resource of weapons that existed just a room away. He could not hope to achieve that goal if he was unable to do this. Or so he had thought—the Origin Bullet had been much more than it seemed.

"_Trace On_," he said, focusing this time on the seven steps of creation involved in his version of _Gradation Air_ or _Projection_ magecraft, which he called _Tracing_. A replica of the cartridge appeared in his hand. Or at least, it looked like a replica. Its true nature was that of the idealized version stored within Shirou's inner world. Shirou could trace anything from his inner world at a low fixed cost, regardless of what it was. Shirou stared at the Origin Bullet for a moment before sighing. Despite all the work he had done on it, he had forgotten that this particular round was not one that he could easily test.

Deciding that it would be more suitable to experiment of a different magical item that he could actually test the next day—summer vacations were beginning after all—Shirou dissolved the traced Origin Bullet II and locked the door of his workshop. It was time he went to bed.

•••••

Seeing that nobody was in the kitchen, Shirou decided to prepare lunch. He had been forced to learn how to cook ever since he came to live with Kirei and Gilgamesh. It was not because Kirei could not cook—in fact, he was a fantastic cook that even Gilgamesh could praise. However, he could not restrain himself when it came to spice content. While Shirou could eat some of his milder dishes, just looking at some of the others could turn him away. They were aesthetically pleasing, certainly, but Shirou could almost feel the physical sensation of heat blazing through him with only slightly prolonged observation. Kirei's cooking was to the tongue what staring into the sun was to the eyes.

Shirou's own cooking had also been raised to a high grade—both due to his own determination and Gilgamesh's abuse when a meal was not up to the Golden King's quality threshold. Slowly Shirou had come to enjoy cooking and now took great pride in his home-cooked meals. He regularly prepared bentos for Gilgamesh and had secured kendo training by bribing his instructor with the same. Now that summer had started and he had daily kendo lessons, he was going to turn the leftovers from lunch into another bento.

Shirou ate silently, wondering where Gilgamesh and Kirei were. After spending a little over three years with them, he had become more tolerant of their behavior. Kirei was… someone who drove Shirou crazy with everything he said or did. Gilgamesh, despite his arrogance and abusive attitude, simply swept Shirou up in his pace, making Shirou enjoy his presence without even realizing it. Still, Shirou loathed Gilgamesh for daring to call himself a Heroic Spirit when nothing about him remotely resembled a hero. If Shirou wanted to become the perfect hero, he had to surpass Gilgamesh. That thought drove him onward and led to the development of his _Tracing_ magecraft. Unfortunately, while Gilgamesh left plenty of his belongings around the church, none of them were weapons, which were what Shirou really wanted to get his hands on.

Footsteps echoed outside the kitchen. They were too light to be Kirei's and too fast to be Gilgamesh's. Shirou stood up and walked to the doorway, hoping that it was just a curious churchgoer. Few people attended on Saturday as church service was the next day but there were exceptions.

The footsteps halted. Shirou leaned forward, attempting to peek into the corridor.

"SHIIIIROUUU!"

"Gah!"

A mass of weight pushed Shirou to the ground, crashing his back against the stone floor. Instinctively, Shirou channeled prana through his body, activating his healing factor. He looked up only to see the brown hair and eyes of his kendo instructor, Fujimura Taiga. She had a wide smile on her face and obviously did not care that she had slammed him onto the ground.

"It can't be—Fuji-nee!"

"I came to pick you up for kendo practice, Shirou-chan!"

"There's no need for you to do that! Haven't I told you not to come to the church for stupid reasons?"

"But Shirou-chan lives in the church! How else will I meet him?"

"Wait for me to come outside like a normal person! Do you just walk into people's houses without warning? On top of that, you're not even a Christian, and this is a place of worship!"

"Huh. Then you're a Christian, Shirou-chan? And I never knew that you needed to be a Christian to enter the church."

"Well…"

"AAH! You're trying to fool me! You can't fool your elders, Shirou-chan! And I'm a teacher, you know? I can easily see through children's lies! You're just embarrassed that I came to pick you up! You don't want your guardians to know a beautiful woman is teaching you! That's the real reason, right?"

No, that was not the reason at all. For that matter, Shirou did not even see the violent Fuji-nee, who beat him up constantly in her attempts to "teach" him, as a woman. No, before that, he was only ten-years-old! He _really_ did not need to rehash the traumatic memories of Kirei educating him about the particulars of sexual attraction and reproduction. Kirei had even brought videos as source material—sometimes Shirou wondered what the man was doing as a Father.

Speaking of which, Fuji-nee was still straddling him on the floor and Gilgamesh and Kirei had undoubtedly heard the commotion the two had caused. They needed to leave. Quickly. Shirou had no desire to introduce any of the church's other occupants, and the thought of Gilgamesh's eyes on Fuji-nee made him rage violently from the inside. She was pure and innocent unlike him, despite being double his age.

Shirou slowly dragged himself to his feet supporting a reluctant Fuji-nee. She was as clingy as ever.

"Fuji-nee, if you don't let go of me, I won't make your bento."

"NO! How could you even say such a thing! Shirouuuuu," Fuji-nee trailed off into sobs.

Ignoring her, Shirou hastily put together a lunch box and threw his own used dishes in the sink. He would wash them later when he got back. He turned; only to stumble backwards as Fuji-nee was right in his face.

"Bento…" she said pleadingly in a small voice. Her eyes were big and watery and Shirou couldn't help but cave to her request.

"Here, take it. But I'll only allow you to eat it when we reach your dojo."

Fuji-nee's expression cleared so fast that Shirou briefly considered that she knew some persuasive illusion magecraft. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room.

"Then what are we waiting for!" she shouted.

They managed to make it to the main hall without encountering anyone. Shirou wondered why he became so loud in the presence of Fuji-nee. This was not an isolated incident, although it was the first time Fuji-nee had actually come to the church. He often got caught up in her enthusiasm and excitement and started shouting back. Hopefully that habit would minimize as he got more used to Fuji-nee.

"Leaving for your training, Shirou?" Kirei said, suddenly appearing from one of the rooms on the side of the church.

"Umm… yes," Shirou said uncomfortably. He wondered whether he should introduce Fuji-nee but he really did not feel like doing so.

"So this is your trainer, Shirou? You did not tell me you found her attractive—I see, this must be why you are always so enthusiastic about going for training."

"Oh, I was right, Shirou-chan! Even your father thinks the same way. Don't worry, your Fuji-nee will take _good_ care of you!"

Wrong, completely wrong. Why could Fuji-nee not see that Kirei was plainly baiting Shirou using her? He could not even deny it now because she would not believe him. Shirou could not understand how Kirei so skillfully managed to get under his skin.

Wait.

"He's not my father!" Shirou said vehemently.

"Oh my," Kirei said, a frown on his face. "It hurts me when you say such things, Shirou. I did not raise you to be like this."

"Shirou! How could you be so rude to your father! Apologize!" Fuji-nee demanded, before kicking the back of Shirou's knees and pushing his head to the ground in a forced bow.

"…"

"I'm sorry, Shirou-otousan, but do not worry. I, Fujimura Taiga, Shirou's most awesome teacher, will definitely teach him proper manners!"

His face crushed to the ground, Shirou could only imagine Fuji-nee pumping her arm to show her enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Fujimura-san. Please do whatever you want with Shirou," Kirei said, and Shirou could almost hear the glee in his voice.

"Fuji-nee…" he sighed, pushing her hand off him and getting to his feet. Turning to Kirei, he scowled and said, "I'll see you later."

Shirou then grabbed the bento from Fuji-nee's hands and rushed outside, knowing that she would follow him in a hurry. It seemed that the summer vacation had gotten off to a bad start.

"Shirou-chan, give me my bento! I won't let you have it!"

Fuji-nee pulled the bento away from him.

"Fuji-nee, please don't come to the church again unless it's really urgent."

She made a sound of discontent. "Why, Shirou-chan? Do you really not like being around me?"

"That's not it at all. I wouldn't come to your kendo lessons or make you bentos if that were so."

Fuji-nee considered what Shirou said and nodded her head frantically. "That's right, Shirou-chan loves his Fuji-nee!"

"So you won't come to see me at the church again?"

"I definitely will!"

"Are you listening to what I'm saying at all?" Shirou almost shouted.

Fuji-nee ignored him, seemingly in a world of her own. She hummed a tune while nuzzling the bento and Shirou shuddered.

Did all heroes have to deal with this kind of thing in their youth?

•••••

"Kotomine," Gilgamesh said, appearing beside Kirei as Kirei watched Shirou leave with his kendo teacher.

"Yes, do you need something, Gilgamesh?" Kirei said in response.

Kirei wondered why Gilgamesh had come before him at this time, risking detection by Shirou's teacher. If he was honest with himself, the last three years since the Holy Grail War had been the best of his life. Now that he understood what it meant to live and how he should live, life was a never-ending rollercoaster of pleasure and entertainment. He was still faithful to God though he knew he would never gain salvation continuing on this path. He could not be saved but he could not feel guilty about his sins either, considering that he was only traveling on this path as all other paths had been closed to him. If God viewed all men as equals, then he deserved to have happiness as much as anyone else.

So Kirei was extremely thankful to Gilgamesh, the one who revealed the truth to him. Still, he had not expected Gilgamesh to be so quiet all these three years. He had done nothing inappropriate other than his abuse of Shirou, at least nothing that Kirei had heard of. Kirei honestly had not expected that, though it made no difference to him as long as it provided entertainment. Nevertheless, he had his plans in place for the ultimate pleasure. He had little hope that Gilgamesh would not ruin everything in an uncontrolled rampage but surprisingly everything was proceeding satisfactorily at the moment.

"I will be leaving for some time," the King of Heroes said.

There it was. A sentence he did not want to hear. Had Gilgamesh known what he was thinking? What did the Gilgamesh intend to do? Kirei watched as Gilgamesh poured something into a small goblet.

"Why?" Kirei asked.

"Do not fear, Kotomine," Gilgamesh said as he idly swished the contents of the golden goblet in his hand. "I will grant you permission to summon me using the Command Spell, although you will have to think of more creative words this time. I had initially planned to do this soon after the Holy Grail War to conserve my prana consumption but I found something that caught my interest. Unfortunately it does not seem receptive to me, and is not yet, or may not ever be, worthy of being among my treasures. I trust that you will take care of him."

Kirei wondered what Gilgamesh's cryptic words meant. Obviously the interesting thing he had found was Shirou. However, what did he mean when he said that Kirei would have to "think of more creative words" when summoning him with the Command Spell?

"I do not understand," Kirei said plainly.

"It seems you worry that I might disrupt your plans. You are wrong, Kotomine. I definitely want to see your plans come to fruition." Gilgamesh tipped the goblet, emptying its contents down his gullet. "I will give you one warning, however: do not underestimate me no matter how I look."

Even as Gilgamesh spoke those words, his form blurred and gold light scattered from it. Kirei turned away to shield himself from the blinding light. When he turned back, he wondered if he was still sleeping.

"Is this what people call a dream?" Kirei asked to no one in particular.

Standing in front of him was a short blond boy with the same red eyes as Gilgamesh. He looked to be about Shirou's age but from his presence, Kirei could tell that it was none other than Gilgamesh himself. The only thing distinguishing them was the childish appearance—and that innocent-looking smile that almost made Kirei believe the boy was someone else.

"It's not a dream, Kotomine-san!" the child version of Gilgamesh said. "You can call me Gil if you want to differentiate me from my adult self. And when he was talking about using different words, he meant that you should ask me to release this form. I can forcefully overcome the Potion of Youth and the Command Spell won't be required unless I don't want to let go of this form. So ask first, please?"

If Kirei had not been in complete control over his emotions, he would definitely have been staring openmouthed at _Gil_'s well-mannered and polite behavior. Had the King of Heroes truly been this kind of person in his youth? It was implausible and frankly unbelievable.

"I presume that you have been reverted to your child self? Why is your personality so different if you retain all Gilgamesh's memories?" Kirei asked bluntly.

"I don't understand how I became that sort of person," _Gil_ said, putting a finger to his lip. "As for my personality, I'm myself, you know? I have his memories but it's more like knowing things without understanding the reason why you know them."

"… I see," Kirei said. Only, he did not see. It was rare that something threw him of balance but he had honestly considered the King of Heroes to be a fixed presence. However, he could not deny that this was an interesting development. It gave him hope for humanity. If such a personality could grow into _that_ Gilgamesh, then perhaps the world could become a better place. Or a more entertaining place, at least.

"Kotomine-san?" _Gil_ said questioningly.

"I apologize. I was thinking of the future of humanity and felt for a moment that it was very bright indeed."

"Is that so? I too think that mankind's future is very bright! I only wish there were more people like Shirou-san who wished to help people! Maybe I should become a hero of justice too?"

_Gil_ tilted his head and put his hand to his cheek in a thinking pose. Kirei wondered if he was seeing something that should not be seen. Was this the mysterious phenomenon that young Japanese adolescents were calling _moe_? If so, Kirei could certainly understand the attraction. Indeed, the attraction to crush _Gil_'s face into a bloody pulp was rising within him. No, that was not what the trope was about, was it? Oh well, he could not do anything anyway.

"Shirou might become jealous if you infringe on his territory," Kirei said.

"Oh, you're right!" _Gil_ replied. "I'll help him achieve his goal then!"

Kirei wondered what the boy was talking about but then remembered the last words Gilgamesh had spoken to him. Very well, he would not underestimate this preteen version of his Servant.

"You do that. In fact, why don't you go over to see Shirou now? I'm sure he'd be delighted. Perhaps you can even practice the sword with him. You do know how to handle one?"

"Of course!" _Gil_ said, before surprising Kirei by opening the Gate of Babylon to remove a reddish-pink wooden pole.

"A wooden pole?" Kirei asked, trying not to sound incredulous.

"This… it's called a waster in these times, isn't it? It can change its shape into any weapon but since it was designed for practice, it never gains a sharp edge."

As he spoke, the wooden pole morphed into an elegant long sword with a V-shaped crossguard.

"I hope you will take care not to show that transformative ability in front of ordinary humans."

"I won't, don't worry, Kotomine-san." He stared at the waster for a moment. "I can't really go the dojo, can I?"

"It would be best if you did not, that is correct. You have no identification or origin in this world after all. While I can prepare false documentation for you, it would mean that you have to go to school and live somewhere else, as it would be too suspicious if I housed two orphans at the church that came out of nowhere. Additionally, I would have to tell Rin about you and she would know something was wrong the moment the two of you met."

"Hmm…" _Gil_ made a sound of dissatisfaction. "Guess I'll have to wait for Shirou-san to come back then… ah!"

"What is it?" Kirei asked, asking himself if _Gil_ could have found away to evade his imprisonment. Kirei had already formulated more than a few ways that it could be done but he did not particularly want to give any form of Gilgamesh more freedom.

"I'll go in spirit form!"

Yes, that was one way. It was also impossible because Gilgamesh had been submerged in the black mud from the corrupted Grail and attained a physical body. It seemed that the child form of Gilgamesh was a little slow-witted.

"I am afraid that would be impossible now that you have gained a physical form," Kirei said.

"Oh, you're right… well, I'll become invisible then."

"Invisible?"

"I have many items that can turn my form invisible…" _Gil_ paused as if he were choosing the item in his head. "Ah!"

He thrust his arm into the Gate of Babylon, penetrating the space around him and making it ripple irregularly. A thin gold bracelet inlaid with red gems was wrapped around his wrist as he drew his arm out.

"This one is thought activated and it uses the surrounding mana so it will not affect my reserves," he said cheerfully.

Kirei sighed, wondering why he did not think of the Gate of Babylon. It seemed to be the universal solution after all.

"Remember not to let anyone but Shirou hear you when you greet him," Kirei said, imagining Shirou's reaction when an invisible person whom he could not recognize greeted him. There was no way that he would believe this child was Gilgamesh if he could not see him. Kirei hoped that a lot of people were around him at the time.

It was truly entertainment at its best.

•••••

"Kirei! A spirit or ghost or something knows about Gilgamesh! I heard its voice during my kendo practice and got scared out of my wits. Fuji-nee thought I was sick and asked me to go home. What should we do? Can you exorcise it? You're an Executor, aren't you?"

Kirei listened to Shirou's rapid-fire speech with amusement.

"I am afraid you are wrong, Shirou," he said. "That voice you heard was indeed Gilgamesh."

"That's impossible because Gilgamesh cannot take spirit form. The voice was too young and didn't sound anything like Gilgamesh. And Gilgamesh would _never_ greet me or even speak to me that politely."

"Is that so?" Kirei asked, before spotting something that heightened his mirth. "Please go on, Shirou. Tell me exactly how different this 'spirit' or 'ghost' was from Gilgamesh. Apparently he was not rude like Gilgamesh and even greeted you, is that really so?"

Shirou nodded swiftly and continued. "Obviously that ghost has no idea how horrible Gilgamesh's personality really is. I can't imagine Gilgamesh coming to the dojo—he believes such things to be unworthy of him after all. If he did come to meet me, there is no way that he would have talked to me in spirit form even if he could take it. He would have definitely have barged into the place liked he owned it and destroyed anyone and anything that stopped him from getting to me. It's Gilgamesh after all—the most arrogant, tactless, ill-mannered, presumptuous, abusive and disparaging person ever to be born since the creation of the world."

"And so he says," Kirei said, nodding to the boy standing in the doorway.

Gil had been there since the beginning of Shirou's first complaint and Kirei could not believe how easily Shirou had fallen into his trap when he encouraged him to compare Gil with Gilgamesh. He should have known better—if the elder Gilgamesh had been behind him instead of his child form, Shirou would most certainly have been grievously maimed, and that too only because Gilgamesh did not want to kill him.

Gil's reaction to Shirou's words was extremely entertaining in itself. With every sentence Shirou spoke, Gil became more dejected and stooped, as if he were being hammered with a giant mallet with each sentence being a blow. The last sentence looked like it had crippled him and judging by his depressed countenance, he was obviously neither used to people referring to him in such a fashion nor happy with the rather accurate description of the person he was going to become.

Shirou had turned around on Kirei's words to Gil and was staring at the now materialized blond in shock and amazement. To Kirei's surprise and delight, Shirou had walked over to Gil and was poking him in curiosity.

"You're the ghost? How come you have a physical form? And you do know that Gilgamesh is an adult right? Though you do seem to have got his features right… I wonder if this is what he looked like when he was a child? No, there is no way Gilgamesh looked so innocent and nice as you do. He was obviously born dressed in gold with an evil smirk on his face as he tormented the doctors and threatened to kill them."

Shirou nodded to his own words and Gil seemed to be confused as to whether he should take Shirou's separation of his two forms as praise toward him or not.

"I… I am Gilgamesh… my adult self drank the Potion of Youth and reverted to me, who was I when he was younger. Also, I was not dematerialized, just invisible."

Shirou just looked at Gil in bewilderment. "That sounds really confusing and I don't understand it at all, but you simply cannot be Gilgamesh. I already said that Gilgamesh is—"

"That is Gilgamesh," Kirei interrupted. "I saw him drink the Potion of Youth myself. He will be apparently staying with us for the conceivable future. His energy consumption is lower so he does not have to stay dematerialized to conserve mana. Additionally, he will not cause trouble when he is bored, which was the primary reason Gilgamesh decided to drink the potion."

Shirou just stared at Kirei before turning to Gil with openmouthed surprise. "You're really Gilgamesh?"

"Please call me Gil, Shirou-san," Gil said.

"Umm… please call me Shirou. I'll be in your care," Shirou said, before realizing how all the statements he made before could be construed. He immediately bowed in seiza position with his head touching the floor. "And I'm really sorry about everything I said earlier! I didn't mean anything by it! Gilgamesh was the greatest king ever and his personality is so amazing that it made me jealous! That's why I spoke that way—it was a joke, a joke I say! Ahahahaha…"

Shirou's laughter trailed off into silence. He looked up at Gil nervously, obviously expecting a barrage from the Gate of Babylon. Not that it came, of course. Gil was nothing like Gilgamesh. Kirei wondered if he should have asked Gilgamesh the true story of his past since all his knowledge of the King of Heroes came from the few remnants of his epic that had survived until this age. There must have been something that turned this boy into that man, and Kirei wanted to know how it had happened.

"Please stand up, Shirou," Gil said, his lips drawn into a wide smile that Gilgamesh would never, _never_ use. "As much as it hurts me to admit it, I became a bad person when I grew older. I can't do anything to prevent it, so there's no point of agonizing over it either. However… the 'me' here now will _definitely_ help you in your goal to become a hero of justice! With me by your side, there is absolutely no way you will not succeed."

"…"

Shirou was in such awe that he could not speak a word in reply. Kirei could understand his feelings. Even barely a decade old, Gilgamesh was clearly a man born to become the greatest king. His words exuded charisma like a succubus exuded sex appeal. His charisma was tantamount to a curse that affected anyone in his presence; it made anything he said sound like an unquestionable truth. He simply could not be denied. Shirou had been able to resist the elder Gilgamesh because their personalities and ideals clashed too strongly, but he actually _wanted_ to hear someone speak the words Gil just spoke. He had been defenseless—it would be an almost insurmountable task to bring him out from under Gil's spell now.

"I… thank you," Shirou said, finally realizing that he was still in seated in seiza in a half bow looking up at Gil. He stood up and fiddled with his hands, obviously at a loss. Basking in Gil's air of unmitigated confidence, Shirou regained his own. "Needless to say, I will become a hero of justice! I will surpass your future self and make him realize what a mistake he made to have changed so much!"

Gil smiled brightly.

"I would certainly like to get my revenge for everyone's wrong impression of me," he said. "You can count on me, Shirou!"

As Kirei watched the two children interact, he wondered just what kind of partnership this was. A heroic spirit who wished for payback against his future self. An ordinary boy who aspired to be a hero of justice. Was it a match made in heaven? Or would their hypocritical desires lead them to hell? Either way, it would be entertaining to see. Not that he believed that Shirou could ever come close to Gilgamesh in power—at the end of the day, it was impossible for the earth to touch the sky.

•••••

Nine-year-old Matou Sakura watched as a red haired boy enthusiastically haggled over the vegetables on sale. They were already at a reduced price yet the boy would not take no for an answer, arguing vehemently with the grocer. Sakura wondered what made him so determined—was he very poor? His clothes did not seem to indicate that was the case. Perhaps he was saving up for something? For that matter, why was someone about her age buying vegetables at the market anyway? She was only here because her grandfather did not cook and she doubted that he even needed to eat, her father had lost his hand during the Holy Grail War and had given her the role of cook in the house, and her brother did not know how to cook or care to learn.

The redhead boy tapped her on the shoulder, rudely bringing her out from her silent musings.

"Hey, hey. You want to buy something right?" he asked. "You seem tired, do you have a list or something?"

"Eh?"

Sakura felt annoyed by her own ineloquence but she simply could not understand what was happening. The boy once again violated her personal space, grasping her hand and pulling the list from it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into a chair meant for the store assistant. "Just wait here. I'll get you your things. And at a super-good price too!"

Sakura watched listlessly as the redhead turned back to the grocer with her shopping list in his hand. What had just happened? Had she been thinking so hard that someone thought she was unwell? This had never happened before. Most people just ignored her or became impatient and rude. She looked toward the boy again, this time observing his face more closely. He had light honey-colored eyes that contrasted beautifully with his scarlet hair and his determined and enthusiastic expressions filled her with amazement.

Sakura would be the first to admit that she hated her family, except perhaps Shinji, whom she only felt pity for. None of them expressed any positive emotions and her life had become a living hell ever since she was adopted four years ago at the age of five. And even outside her home, she was alone. No one wanted to befriend the gloomy depressed-looking girl and strangers certainly did not help her out of nowhere. So why was she in this situation? Who was that boy and why was he so intent on helping a stranger?

"I got them," the redhead said, suddenly appearing in front of her again. He held several bags in his hands.

"The-the bill?" Sakura asked.

"Hmm…" the boy searched through the bags, finally pulling a paper out of one. "Here you go."

Sakura read the bill, a little surprised at the low sum. The boy had managed to achieve a bargain on goods on sale!

"Hey, why don't you let me carry your bags home for you. You don't look like you're up to it today. It's too bad that you're unwell at the start of the summer vacation though."

"I'm not…" Sakura whispered.

"Huh?" The boy looked confused. He had not heard her.

"I'm not unwell!" she said loudly.

The redhead laughed. "I'm sure you're not. But it doesn't matter. I'm going to help you whether you like it or not. After all, that's what a hero would do!"

"A hero?" Sakura asked skeptically.

"Yes, me! I'm a hero of justice! And today, I will be yours. So tell me where to go."

Sakura stared at the redhead, wondering if he was real. Here was a boy, whom she had never met before and did not know the name of, claiming to be a hero of justice. And not just that, he also said that she was hers for the day.

Sakura blushed.

For the first time in four years, Matou Sakura felt a surge of happiness in her heart. How had she forgotten this feeling? It filled her and consumed her like the crest worms never could, like a burst of sunlight within the darkness.

But wait, why was she not responding to his question? She had only spoken a few words, stuttering and jumbling up what she wanted to say. He would think she was stupid. Then he would abandon her just like her father had. Like her mother had. Like her sister had.

"Hmm… I think you're right. You're not unwell at all."

There it was! He was denying what he said earlier. He was going to leave her here despite his declaration that he would be her hero.

"You're just thinking too much instead of talking. Don't you speak to anyone? Well, it doesn't matter. From this day onward, this Emiya Shirou will speak to you so much that you will also start speaking as if it were a contagious disease!"

What? Sakura could honestly not believe what she was hearing.

"But even if I say that, I can't read minds… so please will you tell me your address at least?"

And then Sakura smiled. She could not help it. Her smile was a little awkward because she had not contorted her face in that manner for years and could not remember how to do it properly, but it was a genuine smile. It was an instinctive smile brought about by her hero for the day, Emiya Shirou.

"I'm… Matou Sakura," Sakura said. "If you want to carry the bags to my house… I'll take you."

"Wow, that's the most I've heard you say today. Your voice is really nice, Matou-san, you should definitely use it more."

Sakura blushed again. She was being complimented. And on her voice! Not about her aptitude to bear the crest worms and not about her talent at magecraft compared to the rest of the Matou family. Not by a deformed old cripple that was more monster than man but by a cute boy with a simply amazing smile.

"Your smile is cute too," Shirou said, throwing her off balance yet again. Had she spoken out loud? No, he had simply made the comment while she had been thinking. He shifted all the bags to his right side, sliding them over his arm to secure them. Then he held out his left hand to her. "The Matou house is in the upper-class western area, right? Then until we reach it, I will be at your service, ojou-sama."

"Thank you," Sakura said, taking his hand.

She wondered if the blush on her face would become permanent if it stayed too long. His hand was warm and his grip was firm but gentle. The last person who had touched her gently was Uncle Kariya but he had died in the Holy Grail War trying desperately to save her. Sakura felt a rush of desperation. Would Shirou suffer the same fate if he tried to become her hero? She did not want that, she did not want to see the kind and welcoming smile on Shirou's face fade. She did not want to be the cause of his suffering.

Sakura's hand was squeezed tightly. She looked at Shirou, who was staring down at her with a concerned expression.

"You're thinking about bad things, Matou-san," he said. "Please don't do that, especially when your hero is by your side. I promise that nothing will happen to you as long as you have me."

How could someone deliver such a cheesy line with a straight face? And why was she falling for it? Her every vulnerability was suddenly exposed and a profound relief came about her. Shirou was right. He was her hero. But he was also wrong. He had already saved her. Not by holding her bags or by escorting her home. He had shown her that it did not matter if her life was like hell. As long as people like Shirou existed, just by being with them she would be satisfied with her life. She could even be happy.

Shirou let go of her hand, and she stopped walking. He then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed the area around her eyes. Was she crying? But she was not sad. Were they tears of happiness? She had thought those only existed in fiction. She stood as still as a statue while Shirou gently wiped away her tears. He then took her left hand and wrapped her fingers around the handkerchief. It was made of silk in a light cream color, and it surprisingly had his initials monogrammed on the corners. She looked up at him curiously and he blushed, scratching his chin with a finger and looking away.

"It was a gift from someone. He can't do anything without overdoing it. And something ordinary for him is luxurious for anyone else. So I have a quite a few of them. You can keep it."

Sakura knew she should refuse it. The handkerchief was obviously expensive. It was stained with her tears but he could wash it or dry clean it. But she could not give it back. It was a personalized handkerchief with the initials of her savior. Something of his that would remind her of him. She could not possibly refuse it.

"Thank you," Sakura said, and then grabbed his left hand by herself. She almost gasped at her own boldness. Had she really proactively taken his hand? She forced herself under control, thinking that if she worried too much, her hand would start sweating. That would be extremely unattractive. "Let's go, Emiya-san."

"Call me Shirou," Shirou said easily as they continued on their way.

Sakura strangely did not find it odd that he had asked her to call him by his first name less than an hour after their first meeting. Too many odd things had happened in succession and there was truthfully nothing that Shirou could do that would surprise her anymore today.

"Then please call me Sakura, Shirou-kun," she said, daringly attaching the more affectionate "-kun" to his name rather than "-san." It was normally used only between people who were emotionally attached or had known each other for a long period of time. But she strongly suspected that Shirou would not mind it.

"Sure, Sakura-chan!" Shirou replied, immediately justifying her thoughts and even reciprocating the gesture. "Ah, we're nearing your neighborhood. You'll have to take the lead from here."

Sakura let go of Shirou's hand, not because she wanted to but because she did not want any of her family to see it. They approached the looming Matou mansion, and Sakura felt a piercing sadness when she saw it come into view. If only her house was thousands of miles away. If only she could have walked forever with Shirou's hand in hers. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end and this was no different.

"Don't look so sad, Sakura-chan," Shirou said. "Didn't I tell you earlier? I will be seeing you to talk to you again and again until you start talking back to me too."

"Then if I never talk to you, you'll never stop coming to see me?" Sakura asked.

"No, that's not true at all. After that, we'll both talk to each other! We're friends, right?"

"Yes," Sakura said, her permanent blush deepening further.

"Just remember that I'm a hero of justice. Whenever you have problems, you have to tell me about them. If not, I won't be able to save you and I'll be a failure as hero."

Trying to ignore his words, Sakura asked a question. "Where do _you_ live, Shirou-kun?"

"At the church!" Shirou said. "But… perhaps you shouldn't come there unless it's an emergency. Hmm… maybe we should fix a time and place. Do you have any club activities or hobbies during the summer?"

"No…"

"Then come to the Fujimura kendo club! You don't have to join if you don't want to but I'll be there every morning this summer."

"Alright," Sakura said, nodding happily. "Then… I'll see you tomorrow, Shirou-kun."

"Definitely!" Saying that, he pulled her into a hug that filled her with an intense sensation of warmth that blew away the shock from its suddenness. Shirou blushed and looked away as they separated. "Sorry about that… you just… looked like you needed one. A hug, that is."

Sakura smiled. "Thank you, Shirou-kun."

"Yeah, umm. Bye!"

He rushed off still blushing from his own spontaneous action. Sakura waited until his shape vanished into the distance before reigning in her emotions and adopting her usual impassive expression.

She was a magus of the Matou family after all.

•••••


	3. Spiral

Tabula Rasa

Chapter III

_Spiral_

•••••

**DISCLAIMER** _Fate/stay night_ and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Nasu Kinoko and Type-Moon. This is FANFICTION.

**SUMMARY** In a single outlying universe, Shirou's fate takes an unexpected turn when while running to escape from the inferno that erupted around him, he is drenched in black mud falling from a slowly disappearing hole in the sky.

**NOTE** Sorry about the delay; this chapter was very difficult for me to write. Things are going to start picking up now with the war looming in the horizon. I've already written some scenes that I especially liked, and found a pitfall in my writing style in the process—I get bored with the current chapter when I plan ahead in too much detail because I want to go ahead and write the interesting parts first. Well anyway, here is Chapter 3.

•••••

**December 2000**

"So, did you understand that, Emiya-kun?" Tohsaka asked. "Emiya-kun?"

However, Shirou was not listening. He was too engrossed in the fact that his idle examination of the jewel in his hand had resulted in him tracing it into his inner world. He had been doing it with everything lately; it had become an unconscious habit. He was sure that if he ever found himself within his soul again, it would be covered in all sorts of ridiculous junk.

Nevertheless, he had not meant to do this—he had promised himself not to copy something of his friend's when she took so much hard work and pride in her magecraft. Ordinarily he had no opportunity to do so at all, as Tohsaka did not allow him to touch her precious Mystic Codes. However, this particular one had been labeled as a failure. It was one of her father's jewels and while it possessed years worth of prana, it was highly unstable and would explode spontaneously if it were overloaded further.

Tohsaka said she had planned to transfer the vast prana it contained into another jewel and had allowed him touch it as if it was a great honor. Unfortunately, he had violated her confidence and not only corrected and improved the flaws in her Mystic Code within his mind, but also stolen a copy of the perfected version. An ancient red jewel sat inside him, containing a great amount of magical energy and stained with the power of a nature spirit, and it could be used as a single use explosive projectile equal to A Rank High Thaumaturgy.

Another terrible issue from this mess was that his _Tracing_ ignored important laws such as conservation of energy, allowing him to produce a jewel containing this much prana at the same cost as any piece of gravel he lifted off the roadside. He had literally taken something that both she and her father had spent many hard years making and could now use it casually as if it were nothing to him, and as many times as he chose. The worst part of all this was that he could not even say that he would never use it because he was a hero of justice and could not force himself not to use it if something that might save someone's life.

Shirou had given Gil a brief and incomplete rundown of his ability the first time Gil had given something from Gate of Babylon. He told his golden-haired friend that he could make quasi-imitations of imperfect things and that he would take whatever opportunity Gil gave him to copy his treasures. Gil had reprimanded him for his openness and then said that if he wanted to find an imperfect object within the Gate of Babylon then he could keep searching as long as he wanted.

That had not been an arrogant statement either—the Gate of Babylon contained the prototypes of thousands of magical treasures. As prototypes, they were the first of the kind, and hence inherently flawless, as they had_ nothing to be compared with_ when they were created. No matter how useless the first sword might have been, as it was the definition that spawned the creation of other swords, Shirou could only consider it perfect. Seeing that Shirou's belief influenced every facet of his inner world, only the few items whose inventors had been aiming for something greater and failed could be traced, and the vast majority of those were not weapons.

But this was not the case here. Tohsaka had no idea about Shirou's ability and she would never have allowed him near her jewels if she knew of it. He had never told her because he knew it was not ordinary, and the Mage's Association had banned research into one's inner world or Reality Marble. It was too late. He had made a mistake and would feel guilty about it for the rest of his life but he could not reverse it and would have to live with it.

Something heavy slammed into the side of Shirou's head, sending him reeling.

"Were you dreaming the whole time I was lecturing?" Tohsaka asked angrily. She was holding a thick book in her hand that seemed to be straining her arm to even hold. Had she picked it up specifically to hit him with?

"It was about Alteration, right?" Shirou said, hoping to avoid a second hit. "You said it was the process of adding something to an object."

"Huh, you actually heard something," Tohsaka said, crossing her arms and glaring down at him from her standing position. "That doesn't excuse the fact that you were thinking of something else while I have been wasting my time teaching an amateur like you magecraft for over four years."

Shirou frowned. Being reminded of the fact that she was wasting her time teaching him really struck him deeply after what he had done. He needed a break. He needed to do something else to take it off his mind. He needed to get out of this workshop. He glanced at his watch; it was time anyway. But Tohsaka looked really angry and would probably not like it if he bailed on her right now.

"Hey Tohsaka," Shirou began, "do you want to go out with me?"

"What?" Tohsaka said loudly. It seemed that she was still angry. Her face had turned red; she was also probably tired after holding the heavy book for so long.

"I asked if you wanted to go out with me, Tohsaka."

"B-but it's too sudden!" Tohsaka really shouted this time. She turned away with her face becoming even redder and was muttering to herself. Was she chanting a spell?

Shirou took her hand and pulled the heavy book from it, hoping to ease the strain on her hand and simultaneously break her concentration if she was going to cast something against him. He placed it on the table and turned back to Tohsaka. For some reason, she was staring very hard at her hand.

"You're not making any sense, Tohsaka. Are you coming with me or not?"

"You—!" She was breathing harshly and could not seem to find the words she wanted to use. Was she that angry? Why? Perhaps… had she realized what he had done?

"Tohsaka, it's not… I didn't mean…" his own words jumbled in his mouth. How could he explain that it had been a mistake?

"You didn't mean it?" Tohsaka's voice broke into his thoughts. "What did you mean then—where do you intend to take me?"

She had not discovered his violation? Then what was she asking about? Never mind, it did not matter. Shirou almost grinned with relief.

"To the kendo dojo, of course. I want to introduce you to my instructor and another friend of mine."

Tohsaka made a complicated expression. The redness in her face had receded but Shirou somehow felt that she was emitting a more dangerous aura than before. And why was the book back in her hands?

"Emiya-kun," Tohsaka said, drawing his name out and pasting a wide smile on her face that made Shirou shiver. "Don't you know that it is a _very_ bad thing to be playing with a girl's feelings?"

"Eh? How do you play with—urk!"

Tohsaka smashed the retrieved book down on his head.

"Don't ask silly questions," Tohsaka said. "Now, are we going to meet your friends or not? I do hope they are not as foolish as you are."

Shirou felt a sudden temptation to lament about his misfortune but he suppressed it.

"Right, umm… are you going to come wearing that?" Shirou asked, pointing at her attire.

It was Saturday morning and Tohsaka was a late sleeper when there was no school. As such she woke up only when Shirou came for his lessons. She was still wearing pajamas.

"I'm going to change!" Tohsaka said, her face turning red again. For some reason, she had a tendency to become red around him. He wondered if it was safe for him to be around her. If she stayed this angry all the time, she was obviously going to burst. "And stay in the living room!"

"Okay…" Shirou replied, wondering where else he could be. Did Tohsaka think he would leave the house when she was changing?

Shirou watched Tohsaka lock the door to the basement and run away before he moved to the living room.

A few minutes later, Tohsaka appeared again, now dressed casually in a red top and white skirt.

"Well?" she asked, her hands folded, looking at Shirou as if he was supposed to say something about her appearance.

"You change really fast, Tohsaka," Shirou said.

An enraged expression crossed Tohsaka's visage before it faded into a rather pitying one. Shirou thought about running but he would pay for it later if he ran now.

"You _really_ don't know anything, do you?" Tohsaka asked before making an irritated sound. "Boys!"

"I'm sorry Tohsaka, but what do you mean?" Shirou asked before realizing that it would be safer for him to change the topic. "Umm… should we go then?"

"Humph."

Shirou headed toward the "reserved" section of Miyami belonging to Fujimura Raiga and the Fujimura Group, the local yakuza clan in Fuyuki City. Tohsaka followed him closely, apparently having not been to the location before.

"Shirou," she said suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence.

"What?"

"Why are we going to the area where that _bouryokudan_ occupies?"

A _bouryokudan_, literally "violence group," was the way officials and police classified the yakuza. Shirou was not surprised that Tohsaka did the same, considering her disapproval of organized crime in Fuyuki city, especially as she considered it _her_ domain as Second Owner. Shirou himself did not have any bad opinion of the Fujimura Group, as the few people belonging to it that he had met were nice enough people. According to Kirei, they actually reduced the amount of crime by organizing it, and they made sure not to harm innocents and civilians.

"Ah, I've never told you, have I?" Shirou asked rhetorically. "I study kendo at the Fujimura dojo. It's not really a place to learn kendo but a few years ago, someone saw me practicing kendo at school and told me to come here for personal instruction."

"Eh, you are taught by a member of a yakuza!" Tohsaka said, her voice a little higher than usual. "Are you sure its safe for someone like you?"

Shirou could understand her worries. From Tohsaka's point of view, Shirou was an amateur and untalented magus. She knew he was a talented martial artist but physical fighting could only go so far against a great number of opponents. She was not aware that he could instantly produce and use several different types of weaponry.

"It's fine, they are very nice people."

Tohsaka looked at him doubtfully but did not say anything in response. She often told him he was too trusting of people but he knew that doubting people until they had proven trustworthy would reduce his capacity as a hero of justice.

"Ah, we're here!" Shirou said, turning into a large open gate. A long path leading to the traditional dojo parted a beautiful Zen garden. The dojo was large and had several sections where members of the Fujimura Group practiced martial arts and kendo. The main hall was always empty when he came, probably because of his affiliation with Fuji-nee who was the daughter of the yakuza boss.

As Shirou and Rin walked in, Shirou noticed that Sakura was already present, talking enthusiastically with Fuji-nee. She did not practice kendo, but instead learned archery from Fuji-nee on other days. Shirou himself had turned out to be a prodigy in archery, to the point where he really could not improve any further than he had in dojo conditions. This had resulted in him taking Sakura's lessons with a little encouragement from Fuji-nee, who always forced them together when she was could. Shirou did not mind as Sakura was one of his only friends apart from Tohsaka, and the one he was the most comfortable with.

"Is that—?" Tohsaka said in a half-whisper, staring at Sakura who had not yet noticed their presence.

"What, you know Sakura, Tohsaka?" Shirou asked. He had suspected that Tohsaka knew something about the Matou family because they had been a magus family. However, he did not think he knew Sakura specifically because according to Kirei, the Matous had declined and stopped producing magi since the last generation.

"…" Tohsaka did not reply for a moment, simply staring at Sakura and Fuji-nee. "Your instructor is a woman? Your friend is a girl? And why do you address her as _Sakura_?"

Shirou looked at Tohsaka curiously. Her tone seemed to indicate anger and worry but he could not find a reason for it.

"Yeah, Sakura practices archery with me. We both learned from Fuji-nee, who was the one who taught me kendo. Sakura's even at the archery club at our school."

"Matou-san attends your school?"

Tohsaka's voice was worrying Shirou now. He should alert the still unaware occupants of the dojo to their presence to forestall an explosion. He only wished he could understand why Tohsaka became so angry with him all the time.

"Fuji-nee! Sakura!"

Shirou's pseudo-elder sister and his best friend turned and smiled, only for both their expressions to adopt the same complicated mix of emotions that Tohsaka often wore. What was going on?

"Who's your friend, Shirou?" Fuji-nee asked frostily.

"Ah, this is Tohsaka Rin," Shirou said, trying to blow away the growing tension. "We both have the same guardian and knew each other for a long time."

"Hmm…" Fuji-nee made a sound of consideration.

The two of them were staring at Tohsaka so carefully that Shirou was afraid that they would bore a hole in her.

What had he gotten himself into?

•••••

Matou Sakura could not believe what she was seeing or hearing. Both she and Shirou had a practice of coming at the Fujimura dojo every vacation ever since their fateful meeting during the summer two years ago. She also saw him at school and at the archery club but now she found that nee-san had known him for far longer. Also, Shirou said they shared the same guardian, but Sakura knew for a fact that Shirou stayed at the church while nee-san stayed alone in the Tohsaka residence.

Did they share a sibling relationship? Why was it that nee-san got Shirou as a sibling when she had someone like Shinji-nii-san? But such a relationship might mean that she would not be an obstacle if she pursued a relationship with Shirou. However, if they did not share a sibling relationship, then did that mean that nee-san was much closer to Shirou because he was her childhood friend? Why was nee-san even here? Did she come to take him away? Was she going to keep Shirou to herself just like she had kept everything else that they once shared?

More importantly, did Shirou know about magecraft? Did he know that she was the heir to the Matou family and had hidden that from him all these years? Sakura knew that Shirou did not possess Magic Circuits but nee-san's entire life was focused around her status as a magus. There was no way for them to be close if nee-san had hid everything from him. Moreover, if they shared the same guardian, it was likely that Shirou always knew about it.

"So you're that girl he's told me about…" Fujimura-sensei said, her voice breaking Sakura's mental process. Then she ran over to Shirou and pulled him away from nee-san, squeezing him tightly to her. "I won't hand him over to you! Shirou's mine! And maybe Sakura-chan's in the future, but for now he's mine!"

Nee-san looked at Fujimura-sensei angrily, obviously not expecting such a reaction.

"Shirou-kun," Sakura said. "You came to practice with Fujimura-sensei, right? Why don't you start off then? I'll keep Tohsaka-san company and we can eat lunch together afterward."

"Err… yeah, sure," Shirou conceded, looking between nee-san and her from Fujimura-sensei's grasp. Despite his inability to correctly interpret what girls were thinking, Shirou possessed a keen sense of danger and probably sensed something off about her relationship with nee-san. Fortunately, he had not made a big deal of it because she really wanted to talk to nee-san about her relationship with Shirou.

"Tohsaka-san," Sakura said as soon as Shirou was out of audible range.

"Yes, Matou-san?" nee-san asked coldly. It didn't sound like she was happy about this arrangement, but Sakura was not going to let her be with Shirou and corrupt him with her magus attitude and beliefs any longer.

"What is your relationship with Shirou-kun?"

"Didn't Emiya-kun explain it to you clearly enough, Matou-san? He's my childhood friend. We've known each other since forever."

Sakura felt a surge of pleasure at nee-san's address for Shirou, knowing that they were not on first name terms despite their long relationship. They probably did not see each other very much and nee-san would have insisted on formality because of the difference in their status.

"And what else is he? What does he mean to you?"

"Aren't those strange questions to ask someone unaffiliated with you? It's none of your business."

Nee-san's words stung and Sakura had to fight the urge to physically show her hurt. However, she would ignore it and forge on as she always had. The days of hoping and praying that nee-san would come save her from the Matous had long disappeared. Shirou was her only savior.

"I'm asking because I'm concerned about Shirou-kun. Someone like you…"

Nee-san smirked. "Oh? It's strange that you would say something like that. Actually, I am the one who's the most surprised. When Emiya-kun invited me to see his instructor and friend, I assumed it would be some thug and a pathetic schoolboy. Instead I see that both are female, one is the daughter of a Yakuza boss and the other a magus from a despicable lineage. How dare you scorn my relationship with him when it is much more dangerous that you associate with him? Have you forgotten your grandfather—what will that old man do if he knows you are friends someone related to me?"

For a moment, Sakura could not speak. Nee-san's words had struck a chord within her. She had worried about the same thing ever since the first meeting with Shirou. She had been selfish and decided not to end her friendship with him. That did not mean that she was being callous with his life, however. She took great pains to hide their relationship.

"Does Shirou-kun know… about magecraft?"

"Hmm…" nee-san made a mocking sound, purposely evading the question.

"Answer me," Sakura demanded, her voice higher than it usually was.

"I was going to, but aren't you being unusually rude? I've noticed it since the start of our conversation. Surely you don't think that you're entitled to anything from me?"

With difficulty, Sakura restrained her growing impatience and nervousness. It would do her no good to anger her source of information. Nee-san seemed to delight at Sakura's weaker position and was milking it for all it was worth but Sakura could do nothing but wait and hope that nee-san would reveal what she wanted to know.

"I'm sorry, Tohsaka-san. I'm just…" _worried about Shirou-kun_, the words went unsaid.

Nee-san shrugged, and even the casual gesture seemed to Sakura as if her former sister was looking down on her.

"Well, whatever," nee-san said. "It was not as if I hiding it or anything. Emiya-kun is my apprentice."

Shirou was nee-san's apprentice? But Shirou did not seem to have any magical energy, and he was an orphan from the last Holy Grail War. Why would nee-san take someone without any magical heritage as her apprentice, and even if she could, why had Shirou associated with the kind that destroyed his previous life?

"Shirou-kun… but he's not a magus," Sakura insisted. "I've never sensed anything out of the ordinary from him."

Nee-san nodded, frowning. "Yes, he has some special technique that allows him to completely hide his Magic Circuits. I have no idea how he learned it or what it is and he won't tell me anything about it, but I wouldn't be surprised if he learned it from Kirei."

"Kirei—isn't that Shirou-kun's guardian's name? Why would he know something like that? And why were you entrusted to him as well?"

"Matou-san… Kirei was my father's apprentice. You've met him before, but you might have been too young to remember. He is an Executor, and a pretty high-ranked one too. He achieved the rank when he was barely in his teens."

"You don't mean—Kotomine-san?" Sakura said, vaguely recalling a stoic man who had stayed at the Tohsaka mansion for about a year before Sakura had been given away to the Matou family. It was such a long time ago. "He was an Executor?"

Executors formed the most dangerous and bloodiest element of the Holy Church. They were tasked with the killing of demons and other heretical beings, and often worked with Enforcers to hunt heretical magi. Their department was called the _Shura's Den_, and just achieving the title of _Executor_ signified that one had passed brutal training to become mankind's weapon, a first-rate murderer in other words.

Such a person was Shirou's guardian? And if he had become an Executor so early, there was no way that he would not be dangerous. As a demon, vampire and magus hunter, he certainly would have methods to hide from magi. But how had Shirou turned out the way he had with someone like that as his guardian and father figure? Perhaps he was a good person after all? He was probably a religious man who also fought for what he believed in just like Shirou did.

"He was an Executor, but whatever you're thinking, it's wrong," nee-san replied. "From your expression, it seems that you are getting the wrong impression of Kirei. He's just a fake priest. Even I don't know where Emiya-kun got his ridiculous ambition."

"Shirou-kun's ambition is not ridiculous!" Sakura almost shouted. She quickly glanced at Shirou sparring, and felt relieved that he had not heard her statement.

"Oh?" nee-san said, smiling mockingly. "Well, it doesn't matter. Are you happy now that I've answered your questions?"

"Does he… does he know about me?" Sakura asked hesitantly. This was the root of her problem. She honestly did not know whether she wanted Shirou to know that she was a magus or not. On one hand, it meant that she could talk to him more freely and be less afraid of his reactions to certain things, but on the other hand her past as a magus was abnormal and she really never wanted him to know the specifics.

"I'm not sure actually," nee-san said, looking to the side as she thought about it. "I've told Emiya-kun that the Matou family's Magic Circuits died out in the previous generation but I don't know what Kirei knows or might have told Emiya-kun."

"I…" Sakura stopped and swallowed the rest of her sentence. She had almost blurted out her problem, hoping that her once-upon-a-time sister would help her solve it. But that was impossible. Not only was Sakura not a part of the Tohsaka family anymore, nee-san did not even consider her a sister.

"I don't think it matters whether you tell him or not," nee-san said, surprisingly insightful about Sakura's doubts. "Emiya-kun is not the type of person who would care or judge someone based on something like that. He's pretty much useless as a magus but like Kirei, his strength is as anti-magus tactics. Even though I'm worried about him being friends with you because of Zouken, Emiya-kun is not defenseless."

Was nee-san… helping her? Was she saying things to comfort Sakura out of her own volition? Sakura could not understand it.

"Don't get me wrong," nee-san continued. "I still don't think it's a good idea, but Emiya-kun seems to treasure your friendship. If all three of us know magecraft, there's no reason for me to interfere, right? He knows what it means to be a magus, even if he wants nothing to do with the rules of orthodox magi."

"What kind of magecraft does Shirou-kun know? He's not from a magus lineage, right?" Sakura asked curiously, wondering how much of a "magus" Shirou was. Being a magus was a lifestyle after all. One could not be a magus and a hero of justice at the same time.

"He has no magical history, and he does not even have any of the conventional elemental alignments. As I mentioned, he's pretty useless as a magus. But he's also someone who can actually land blows on _Kirei_ at a physical fight despite their age difference. I can't understand his body at all."

Sakura blushed at nee-san's words. She had enjoyed glimpses of Shirou's _body_ a few times after training when they used the facilities at the dojo to freshen up. Nee-san was right—Shirou did a lot of physical training, but his body seemed unnaturally strong… perfect. Even parts of his body that he did not exercise seemed unusually conditioned, and Sakura had speculated to herself that he might have possessed the same physique naturally, even without any of the hard work he did. It was as if he never got stronger or faster apart from changes from growth, because he was always at his peak physical ability.

"Stop that," nee-san said, halting her perverted strain of thought. "Maybe I was wrong after all. I should not let Emiya-kun meet up with you."

"Shirou-kun will definitely not stop just because you tell him to."

"Are you sure about that?" nee-san said, smiling suspiciously.

"Huh?" Sakura said confusedly.

"Emiya-kun," nee-san called out, interrupting the conversing Shirou and Fujimura-sensei, who had completed their practice. Shirou looked barely winded, while sensei was sweating profusely. Despite that, it appeared as if he was the one who had lost every spar. Slowly fading bruises covered every visible part of his body. "Do you mind if we go back earlier?"

"Eh, why?" Shirou asked. "Weren't we going to eat lunch with Fuji-nee and Sakura?"

"Don't forget that I'm wasting my precious time for you, Emiya-kun," nee-san said, a glint in her eye.

Shirou looked contrite and quickly folded to nee-san's demand. "Sure, Tohsaka. I'm sorry about that, Sakura, Fuji-nee. Is tomorrow okay? I'll make lunch."

Sakura stared at him, wondering what exactly nee-san did that she could influence Shirou in this manner. Nee-san noticed the face she was making and smirked superiorly.

"I'll be taking him," she said.

Sakura said nothing in response, but vowed to herself that she would not lose another precious thing to her sister. No, she would never lose Shirou.

Not even if she had to do something drastic to make sure of it.

•••••

**April 2001**

Kotomine Kirei stared down at the mangled body before him. It was difficult to tell at the current time but the body had once belonged to a boy. He was one of the children who had been orphaned by the fire caused by the Holy Grail after the war. Soaked in preservative and their forms decaying as they was converted into prana for Gilgamesh, the orphans' bodies were hardly recognizable as human. However, they were still alive, their eyes open and twitching, pleading for Kirei to end their lives.

In Kirei's hands was a beautiful scabbard. In fact, it looked more like an ornament than a weapon sheath at first glance. Merely being in its presence filled you with awe. It's delicate appearance and aesthetics as well as the golden lettering emblazoned on its surface belied its true nature. It was a conceptual armament that surpassed all things of this world. Kirei had researched it for seven years now, and even though he was not a very competent magus, he had been able to discern some of its properties.

That was why he had brought it here. The scabbard had a fantastic amount of mana within it, but only its true user could extract that magical energy. However, it could still be used as a healing device, regenerating all wounds instantly. Shirou had a degraded form of this ability that he needed to consciously activate but the sheath itself was peerless. If he employed it on one of the orphans lying before him, they would be restored to pristine condition within a few days.

However, that was not Kirei's objective. Why on earth would he want to save the ones he had condemned? He was here to perform a little experiment. The mana in the sheath could not be used directly. However, Gilgamesh had formed a connection with this chamber, sucking the life out of these children to regain his own magical energy. Would he benefit from the healing? Most probably the answer was yes. So, doing this would increase the speed at which Gilgamesh was restored to full strength.

However, that was not Kirei's true objective either. It was but a side effect of what he really wanted.

Kirei had come here to heal the children.

Not to heal them totally but to heal them until they began to hope for a chance of being saved from the unending torture—a sparkle of hope like finding an oasis after a week without water in the desert.

And then he would stop the process. The sparkle of hope would disappear like a mirage of an oasis, leaving its viewer sobbing and broken in the sand.

Despite the unpleasant odor of chemicals, dust and decayed flesh in this underground crypt, Kirei could smell and taste the pain the orphans would feel once he carried out his experiment.

It was, quite frankly, delicious.

•••••

Gil watched as Shirou performed his magecraft training, not saying a word to make sure Shirou was not distracted from his concentration. They had a strange relationship—both that of friends and that of teacher-student. Gil could still remember Shirou's honest words when he had first lent him something from the Gate of Babylon—"I have a strange ability to somewhat project any flawed object I examine with magecraft, and because of my goals as a hero of justice, I will take whatever opportunity to improve my arsenal." Gil could not imagine someone who would bluntly reveal something as important as that and even told Shirou it was a mistake, but Shirou had been adamant that a true hero would never lie and steal from those who were helping him.

Most of those who knew who Gil was often did not really understand him. While it was true that he did not share many of his elder self's behavioral traits, he did share all his knowledge. He knew every deed he would do in the future, whether it was virtuous or sinful. Without the emotions that should have come with this knowledge, he could not put any significance to any of events in his future but he knew them all without a doubt.

The Potion of Youth was an extremely powerful substance but it was also highly impractical. While it did make one younger, its incomplete memory transference caused the younger self to be a completely different person, a snapshot of the drinker when he was at that age. So, when Gilgamesh drank the potion, he was effectively removing himself from the present and replacing himself with the _him_ that existed when he was ten-years-old.

Due to the transient nature of Gil's life, he could not truly see it as living. He was not a nihilist, but he knew that his own life did not have any great importance. He knew his fate and he could not do anything to change it, much less now when he had died and become a Heroic Spirit. He had no future and while he spouted goals and dreams, the one who was most aware that they were impossible was he himself. He only existed when his older self was bored with his current situation or had a task for him that Gilgamesh could not perform—in this case it was to examine Shirou.

Gil was a fantastic actor; in fact, he had always been great at anything he attempted. From the moment he was born, he was worshipped by men and held in high regard by the gods—this was not only due to his nature as two-thirds god but also due to their instinctive understanding of his greatness. Unfortunately Gil himself had been affected by the way others treated him. Eventually, his respect for his people would dwindle and he would consider them his possessions, which he could treat in any manner of his choosing.

He would take anything he liked from his subjects and he would rape women on their marriage beds. For him, there would be no bars, as the King, he was entitled to the world. When he would finally find a friend and equal, he would lose him to the whimsical gods, causing Gilgamesh to hate them more than anything.

Those memories pertained to Gilgamesh, not Gil. Nevertheless, Gil possessed them. He knew of his doomed fate and he could not really respect his elder self despite the fact that he understood how Gilgamesh had become who he was. As the king, he should have been uncolored and non-influenceable but he had fallen to the actions of those around him. If Gil knew that he was going to become someone like that, what did it mean to his current circumstances?

He was always aware that his existence was transient so he lived in the present, trying his best to ignore his fate. The moment he reverted to Gilgamesh, he would disappear—and he did not reappear when Gilgamesh drank the Potion of Youth again; rather, a new Gil was created. Gilgamesh _knew_ all of this, yet he drank the potion—in essence, even his younger self was his to use as he pleased.

This time, Gil knew that he was here both to alleviate Gilgamesh's boredom and to unravel the mysteries of Shirou's existence. Since the fourth Holy Grail War, Gilgamesh had wanted to know the secrets behind Shirou's survival of the ambrosia. To facilitate this, Gil had instantly won over Shirou's confidence by appearing to support his dreams. However, now that he had spent three years in Shirou's presence, he felt like a completely different person.

For the first time after drinking the Potion of Youth, Gil felt that he possessed some form of identity. In the end, his act of winning over Shirou had caused Shirou to win over him. He wanted to believe that Shirou could truly become a hero of justice—for a king, there was no such things as childish and irrational dreams.

Their relationship made Gil wonder—was this how Gilgamesh had felt in the presence of Enkidu? If so, he could understand Gilgamesh's sorrow at their separation. Shirou was certainly living up to Enkidu as Gil's equal—he could match Gil physically and possessed an equal bearing due to Gilgamesh's influence. However, the two were also fundamentally different from Gilgamesh and Enkidu. The younger Gil had not yet been corrupted by his privileges as king and Shirou was not uncivilized or wild—in fact, Shirou was more similar to Gilgamesh than Gil himself was. This of course really annoyed Gil, and caused him to feel a fierce sense of jealousy over his elder self, as he had been much closer to Shirou and wanted to live on in his friend when he disappeared.

It was because of their closeness that Gil could see it—the downward spiral Shirou was on ever since he had begun researching his strange ability to correct the flaws in items. Rather than conventional _Alteration_, Shirou read the record of the item he examined limited to its physical and mystical characteristics and changed it in a manner that corrected the flaws in its structure. While he could not trace something living, Shirou had been able to use this _Trace Alteration_ even on human beings. Once he accidentally learned of this, his first attempt had been on himself.

It was an act very characteristic of Shirou that would never occur to another person. After all, who uses his own body as his _first_ test subject? However for Shirou, whose goal was to become a hero of justice, the thought of risking another person's life was so inconceivable that the possibility may as well not have existed. Unfortunately, Shirou had not achieved the desired results from the process.

He had wanted to regain his memories from before the fourth Holy Grail War but his _Tracing_ ability focused only on the part of the record related to one's physical and spiritual attributes. It could not retrieve memories that did not pertain to one's ability. For Shirou, a human whose body and soul had already been refined by the ambrosia, there was no way for him to become even more perfect than he already was.

However, Shirou's self-examination had made him realize the true extent of his ability. His _Trace Alteration_ was not based on the property of Multi-Dimensional Refraction Phenomenon. It did not reverse time on its subject or transform it into the form it possessed in another dimension but changed it in the present to mimic _what it could have been_. It was a limited ability based on Shirou's skill and belief. Additionally, it could alter the body but not bring the mind along with it.

Shirou had discussed the implications of such a skill with Gil at length. Personally, Gil was amazed that he had gained such ability from his survival of the ambrosia. It was not an ordinary effect, and even if one was in a position where there Origin could be changed when they drank the divine nectar, they had to be pure enough to survive consuming it and hence, there was no dramatic purification that could trigger such an event. Shirou was an anomaly among anomalies.

Despite his innate good nature and fervent desire to be a hero of justice, Shirou had begun thinking about ways he could possibly change the people around him so that they would be better protected. While Gil could understand the spirit of Shirou's desire, the method he was choosing undermined what he truly wanted. But Gil could not command Shirou on what to do. Rather, Gil _did not want_ to command him. Shirou was his friend, and using his power to overwhelm and force Shirou to accept what he said was not something he sought.

So Gil advised him. Shirou was young and frightfully overconfident but Gil was well aware of the fact that Shirou had seen the depths of human darkness when he was drenched in the black mud that spilled from the corrupted Holy Grail. That was not an experience that could be washed away or forgotten. At least some of Shirou's obsession with saving people had to have come from it. The same thing confused Gil—if Shirou knew the extent of humanity's evil, how could he dream of being a hero of justice? Gil could not understand it but he wanted to believe that Shirou could do it.

He wanted to believe that Gilgamesh could have part in something good in this world.

He wanted to believe that he would leave behind something that would wash away the many sins that he had committed in his future.

But most of all, he wanted to help his friend who had changed him and given him an existence worth living, even if it was a fleeting one.

As Gil smiled at Shirou without his notice, a prickling sensation told him that he needed to be elsewhere.

"Shirou," Gil said, making Shirou look up from the necklace he was holding. "I will be leaving you to your work for sometime."

"Sure," Shirou replied, nodding his head.

Gil left the room.

•••••

"Kotomine-san," Gil said, walking into the underground crypt where Kirei stood with an oddly fascinated expression. "What was that?"

"Ah, so it worked?" Kirei asked, his excitement elevating.

Kirei suddenly realized that this situation would not have been nearly as fun with the adult Gilgamesh, who took pleasure in much of the things Kirei did. He watched as Gil looked helplessly at the ravaged flesh of his victims.

"What are you doing? Why am I receiving a heightened amount of prana?"

"I'm healing them," Kirei replied, watching confusion form on Gil's face in anticipation.

"Healing them?"

"Yes, I found a mysterious object containing a vast reservoir of mana but it could only be used to heal."

"That's not what I was asking," Gil said, his expression clearly showing annoyance. "Why are you healing them?"

"Are you saying that you do not want them to heal?" Kirei asked, his enjoyment at Gil's frustration heightening his pleasure.

"Kotomine-san," Gil said deceptively pleasantly. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Kirei held in his smirk. Gil rarely became so aggressive. The situation was obviously taking its toll on him. He hated this place, probably because he did not support the method his elder self used to collect mana but he could do nothing about it.

"Of course," Kirei replied, his voice truly filled with a priestly benevolence.

"…"

"…"

Ripples began forming in the air behind Gil. He was obviously at the end of his rope.

"Healing them using this artifact allows their life force to be replenished instantaneously," Kirei said, forestalling Gil's attack. "By doing this your mana absorption rate will also increase, further accelerating their healing. The one who is being treated is left in an endless cycle of pain and regeneration. Is it not wonderful?"

Gil looked disgusted. Kirei stared avidly at his face, capturing the impression of the young king's emotions.

"Stop this, Kotomine-san."

"No."

"What?"

"I am doing this for your sake," Kirei said, before adding mockingly. "You don't have a problem with the fact that you are draining these orphan's lives but you have a problem with me healing them? How hypocritical of you."

"I don't really care what you think of my hypocrisy, Kotomine," Gil said, dropping his polite tone. "I am not going to allow you to torture them any further than they already are."

"I wonder… how would Shirou feel if he knew of this room? How would he feel if he knew of its purpose? How would he feel if he knew that you knew of its purpose? How would he feel if he knew that you were consuming the souls of living beings? How would he feel if he knew that they were all orphans from the Grail War like him?"

Gil was silent. Kirei enjoyed the subdued look that spread across his face. It was not an expression one expected or even imagined the King of Heroes to adopt. However, Shirou was a very sensitive subject for this king.

"You're not going to tell Shirou anything. My older self would not tolerate your obstruction of his plan."

"That brings me to another point—why are you trying to stop me when you know that your older self would approve of what I am doing now?"

"That does not matter as long as I am here."

"But I can call him here at any moment. You know that I am not short on Command Spells."

"Do you really think a Command Spell could dominate me?"

"It does not matter whether it would. If I word the command correctly, you would not be fighting against the Command Spell but yourself—a version of you with much more experience and ego. You would lose."

Kirei almost laughed at Gil's cornered countenance. It was simply delightful. Who would have thought that Kirei could torture the Golden King in this manner? Today was really shaping up to be a good day.

"Kotomine, are you really going to play games like this with me? Have you perhaps forgotten who I am?"

"Not at all," Kirei said in an almost deferential manner. "My every action is in the service of the king. It was you who advised me to walk on this path after all."

Gil's expression contorted, not out of hatred for Kirei but for himself—or to be precise, his older self. The internal dilemma he must be feeling… Kirei wished he could hear the young king's convoluted thoughts. He had really stirred up a hornet's nest—torturing the tortured orphans to Gil's benefit, trapping Gil into a corner with Shirou's morality, showing Gil his powerlessness to stop Kirei's actions, and forcing Gil to acknowledge the cruel nature of the person he would become.

It was an orgasmic—no, better than orgasmic—feeling. It made Kirei wonder why people sought pleasure from sex when they could do this. It was more long lasting and much easier in execution. He just could not get enough of it. He loved it—the awareness that he held these lives in his hands. It was especially satisfying when the subject was someone as strong willed and powerful as Gil, a person he knew could crush him in a fraction of an instant if he so chose.

However, Gil could not attempt that here because his elder self would not overlook such an action. Kirei knew that he would not take the risk of Kirei's survival, or that Kirei might successfully use the Command Spell before he died. His hands were tied in knots so jumbled that they would have to be cut to let him escape. Unfortunately, he could not cut Kirei out of the picture either.

"Kotomine… you will regret this."

It was at times like this that Kirei saw the man that Gil would become. The ominous tone and suggestion his words carried spoke not of speculation but of fact. In Gil's mind, Kirei's fate had been unquestionably sealed. In any ordinary person, those words would make him fear for his very life and backtrack on all his actions in order to appease Gil.

Kirei just luxuriated in the surety of great entertainment to come.

•••••

It began almost as soon as the room's other occupant left.

It was like being trapped in an iron maiden filled with white hot needles that ripped and sliced his body to zillions of pieces; simultaneously his every cell was on fire, he was suffocating and choking as if he were being held underwater and drowning. Then his suffering escalated; it was as if his soul was shredding while he was still alive. The agony was unimaginable; seconds stretched to eons as his body and mind shuddered and writhed under the onslaught. A jagged spear lanced through the very core of his existence and his soul stretched as if it were being pulled apart before exploding.

He breathed hard, wondering what had just happened to him. His chest still throbbed from the pain he had endured. Entering the bathroom, he lifted his shirt; it was soaked heavily in his sweat. Then he stared into the mirror, half turned as he inspected himself for damage. There was something different about his appearance; something that should not have existed.

Etched over his heart was a trisected black lotus.

•••••


End file.
